Nova et Vetera
by Salser
Summary: Shepard's had a tough life and little reason to trust in others. Can a certain blue archaeologist win her heart and convince her otherwise? Dark in places, lighter and funnier in others. MA for language, physical, emotional, psych trauma & mild sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1: Beginnings

**Author's note: this is my first attempt at fanfiction. I have been mulling over writing this for some months now, but have never actually had the courage to do so. I will attempt to update quickly, and chapters will hopefully be longer than this short pilot one. Reviews are always welcome, even if they are just to tell me to stop polluting the Internet and go away!**

**Chapter 2 will hopefully be more familiar territory for most people.**

* * *

The air crackles before the vibrant reverberation dissipates into a sizzle. I close my eyes, pressing up against the cold grate as far as my feeble body will allow. From previous experience, I know this leaves gutters along my cheek, but the anticipation of what comes next overcomes any conditioned response I may have developed.

I inhale deeply, panicking for a moment as I realise that the only scent I can perceive is the same one I have been numbed to. It is a putrid smell, stale as bread left unattended for days and repulsive as rotting fish. I wrinkle my nose, suppressing a gag as I wait for the inevitable adaptation of my olfactory centres. Then, it hits me. The warm, sweet aroma which makes my nostrils flare and prickles at my tired eyes. On prior occasions, I have heard her commentary as she tells another "you have to let the oil get hot – see how it smokes – before you add the onions." The crackle coincides with the word 'onions'. "Be quick when you stir, that's the only way you'll capture the flavour without burning them." A pause as I imagine a smug smirk upon that unknown face. "Maybe one day I'll let you cook for your father".

Onions. My mind dissects the word which has no visual meaning. All I associate with it is that crackle, that saccharine fragrance which is my escape from the stimuli which constantly threaten to overwhelm my senses. Then, another sound; I know this is her voice. She is alone. She only does this when she is alone. There is no prosody in the noises she makes, as there is when the other is there. Instead, there is a constant variation in tone which comes in a rhythm I find myself swaying to. I do not have a name for this, this noise. I only know that I am comforted by it, that it makes me feel safe. My eyes are still closed as I try and imitate those dulcet tones. Nothing emanates from my parched throat, however, and I must be content with what I am hearing, knowing it will be over soon.

My reverie is interrupted by the slamming of a door which whips through the air. Instinctively, I cower. _No, it's too early. He's never home this early._ Tears begin to form as I realise my daily consolation is over as quickly as it started. The heavy stomping grows louder, announcing his presence before I am hit with another smell. Onions, I think frantically as the lingering smell of cheap tobacco and the intoxicating whiff of alcohol assails me.

Before I can scamper away, I am yanked off the floor by my unkempt, greasy hair. The familiar sensation tears through my scalp, and my eyes water. Instinctively, I feel a shriek build in my chest; I open my mouth, but all that escapes is a whimper. I am curled into a ball, every fibre of my being tightened at the knowledge of what comes next. His lecherous eyes are upon me. Those cold, emerald eyes, which once-upon-a-time held a look of something so different.

"_Daddy!_" I hear myself whine. In vain hope I look up at those eyes, but they do not see me. They have not seen me in years. The cruel features contort into an expression I have come to dread.

"Daddy's home" comes the reply.

My mind deadens.


	2. Chapter 2: A Meeting of Minds

**More conventional, less dark, **_**for now**_**. Thank you to everyone who has followed / reviewed this story. It has been encouraging! More A/N at the bottom to avoid inadvertent spoilers.**

* * *

An inaudible sigh escaped Hackett's lips, and he gently raised two fingers to his throbbing temple. _Udina. What an unmitigated ass. An obnoxious buffoon with all the subtlety of an atomic bomb and wit as sharp as a baseball bat. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to make him our representative to the Council? No wonder the whole fucking galaxy hates us. I can't believe the Council still lets us maintain an embassy after having to sit through a session of his drivel. Maybe I should just do the entire fucking galaxy a favour and shoot the monkey._

Looking directly at the hologram of the ambassador, the admiral instead fixed a placid smile on his face. _The most important meeting in the living history of Mankind and the arrogant bastard can't even be bothered to turn up._ "Well, sir, what do you suggest?"

"We need a hero, someone who embodies the glory, passion and determination of humanity," came the reply in that infuriatingly condescending nasal tone. _Use all the superlatives you want, you ignorant jackass, I already know what you're going to say_. "We need someone uncompromised, someone the media loves, someone Earth – and by extension, the aliens – love." _Yes, because aliens and humans are so alike, they obviously honour the same shit we do. I wonder how long the fucking idiot is going to drone on before he gets to his point._

Absently, out of eyeshot of the men at the table, Hackett started fiddling with the coin he always carried around with him. The coin danced gracefully between his fingers, back and forth, over and under. He found a strange comfort in the anachronism – he doubted Udina would even know what it was. _I wonder if I can flick it at the holo without him seeing. Nah, my coin deserves better_. He glanced at his chrono. _Gotta be a fucking record, this monologue. Fourteen minutes and counting._ His mouth twisted into a mirthless smile as he realised the other two men at the table were also losing patience.

_Thank fuck_, he thought as one of the other figures cleared his throat. "Donnel, as I am sure you are aware, time is short for all of us. There is no need for hyperbole. All the candidates have already demonstrated exceptional talent. The only reason we are meeting is because we can only choose one of them."

"Yes, Mr Prime Minister," came the curt response. _No doubt the little shit is bristling at being cut off. _He sighed internally as he realised he would have to pay the consequences later. "I believe the only man for the job is Captain Summers. He…"

_Still got it, old man. Read him like a metaphorical book. Too bad you only bet with yourself_. He made a mental note to celebrate his victory with than unopened Scottish whiskey Anderson had gifted him some years back. _Summers. Of course he would pick Summers. Fucking boy scout_. Not that he minded Summers, of course. Summers was, on the surface, every bit the model Alliance soldier. Fourth generation navy, father posthumously awarded the medal of honour following the battle of Shanxi. The kid had been born and raised in space, never staying in one place, following his mother's command postings. Enlistment at 18 was a foregone conclusion, and from then on, the kid's career had been on the up-and-up. Good with tech and an excellent shot, he had eventually been picked for the coveted N7 program. Not the best scores, but hey, who was perfect.

And then there was Elysium. Kid was on shore leave, choosing to spend it aiding farmers on the colony world. At least, that's what the reporters were told. _The navy had to improve enlistment numbers somehow, right?_ He shook his head at the bitter thought. Fucking batarian scum appeared out of nowhere, and the garrison outpost was overrun just as the distress signal went out. As they flocked into the town, Summers ordered the remaining handful of soldiers to get the civvies to the emergency bunker. _Brave, hot-headed, presumptuous_, Hackett mused. _And fortunate_.

The boy had parked himself atop a pre-fab with a birds-eye view of a choke-point the batarians would have to traverse to get to the colony. Great place to snipe from with no chance of return fire because the glare of the sun off the surrounding glass masked his muzzle flashes. Good plan, in theory. Thank fuck the batarians were idiots. Anyone with even squad level command training would have seen the gaping flaw in Summers' plan. A few clicks west sat the infrastructure which kept the colony running. Sewage, power, ventilation, all connected and all mapped to a T in case of emergencies requiring on-duty rapid-response crews unfamiliar with the layout. It would only have taken a small squad of 2-3 men to infiltrate the maintenance hatches and cap the chump from behind. A glaring oversight borne of arrogance; he was fortunate he did not to have to pay for it.

Of course the kid was brave. The Alliance pinned the Star of Terra on him and marketed his incompetence and dumb luck as heroism: bravery in the face of overwhelming odds and a willingness to lay down his own life for others. Conscriptions went up 20%, and Summers became the new poster boy of the Alliance.

"No", Hackett said, interrupting yet another one of Udina's monologues. The ambassador blinked before his stern features narrowed.

"Excuse me, _admiral_?" He emphasized Hackett's rank, the implication that a subordinate had spoken out of turn all too clear.

"Summers is a good soldier, but this is not a role he can fulfil." Hackett paused, letting his call sink in. Seeing Udina on the verge of a sputtering response, he continued calmly. "He's courageous but his bravado will eventually be his downfall. Look at his service records. His plans always hinge on him being able to complete the primary objective. He rarely thinks beyond that, and almost never has an obvious backup should _he_ fail. He's principled, but idealism will not stand against the ugly calls he may be forced to make. Worst of all, I don't think he understands that sometimes, not everyone can be saved."

"You jarheads are all the same. Vision only as far as the tips of your noses. Summers is –" Udina's tirade was cut short by a single phrase from the prime minister.

"I agree."

The ambassador stiffened visibly. "With all due respect, sir, Summers _is_ the best man for the job. We've been through all the other candidates." Standing so quickly he knocked over his chair, he started pacing. Fingers ticked off as he recounted the earlier portion of their meeting. "Rogers is out because, despite making the right call, he let a hostage who just so happened to be a distant relative of Tevos die – who isn't a distant relative of Tevos, anyway? Alston's proved he's a survivor, but, much as I hate to agree with Anderson, being a survivor just proves you'd make a good lifeguard, not a Spectre. Richardson is the best adept we have, but pales in comparison to the asari huntresses. Aside from a couple of extraction missions, he doesn't really have assault experience. Bannister is probably one of our best soldiers. His simulator scores are off the charts and he's got top marksman scores. However, his mission completion rate is far lower than we'd expect, and his troops always seem to be running about like headless chickens, leading Hackett to note that he's probably a terrible communicator. Lastly, I refuse to allow Hackett's protégé this opportunity. The media will hound us for nepotism and she has no experience dealing with aliens aside from the scores she has killed without so much as a backward glance. Who left then, but Summers?"

Anderson cleared his throat, and three pairs of eyes were instantly cast his way. "Pardon me, sir, but I have yet to present my candidate. She is the only one I have selected."

"Absolutely not," Udina shot back. "I know who your pet lackey is. That sycophant managed to brown nose her way up the ranks on the back of an "achievement" which was nothing short of a complete disaster. She represents everything the aliens hate about humanity." _No, you and your melodramatic air quotes do_, Hackett thought, as Udina continued. "I won't stand for it".

As it so happened, Hackett knew who Anderson had chosen. He had his reservations, but he actually liked the woman. _And a sycophant she most certainly is not_. Feigning ignorance and looking Udina in the eye, he leaned back in his chair and opened his arms. "I'd like to hear what the Captain has to say. I'm sure the prime minister would appreciate having heard all the options before making an informed decision." He ignored the huffing coming from the holo and cast a cursory glance at the man in the well-tailored suit, who looked nothing short of exasperated. "Yes, yes, just make it quick before I decide to draw straws."

"Sir, it is my recommendation that Lieutenant Commander Shepard be considered for the appointment." _That's my boy. No bullshit, like an arrow between the eyes_. As Anderson spoke, he passed datapads to the other two men. Udina slapped his off his desk in frustration, the plastic slab clattering to the floor.

"Shepard… why do I know that name," the prime minister mumbled, unread text scrolling across the datapad, reflecting off his dark eyes.

"She's one of our most decorated soldiers, sir. You –"

"She's a political shitstorm and you probably heard about her from Amnesty International or the Red Cross," Udina interrupted rudely. "She's a loose cannon at best and a complete liability a –"

"Donnel, for the love of God, shut up!" came the riled snap. _Jesus, he's actually speechless_. Hackett had to fight not to snort in amusement. _Can't believe I'm gonna owe a politican one…_ "Captain, as you were saying?"

Anderson spoke as if he had never been interrupted. _Can't think of a better way to stick it to a politician than to ignore them._ "Shepard is a highly-decorated N7 with cross-training in biotic and traditional infantry combat. The details and her proficiency scores are in front of you and they speak for themselves. On the field, she has never failed us, the most notorious example being Torfan, where she –"

"Damnit, I knew I'd heard that name somewhere. Ambassador, I've made my decision. Make the call."

"With all due respect, sir, I –"

"Donnel, that's the second time you've uttered that phrase to me today. Say it again and I'll have you stripped of your position and so done for that you'll have nothing but your irresistible charm to help you find your way home. Make the call"

"Sir, please." _Damn, never thought I'd say this, but maybe Udina does have balls after all…_ "Shepard's upbringing and service history are a nightmare. There is no way the Council will even entertain the notion of –"

"Ambassador, I did not appoint you to second guess me. My decision is final and my reasons do not concern you. I note that neither Admiral Hackett nor Captain Anderson disagree with me. Your dissent is noted, overruled and dismissed. I hate repeating myself, so I shall only do this once more: Make. The. Call."

Udina's face was tight with rage as he forced himself to mutter some semblance of consent. With that, the meeting adjourned and with the necessary handshakes, the men departed.

Anderson stood in the hallway, lost in thought as Hackett exited the room. "Inspired choice, Anderson, but I hope you're ready for the consequences if it blows up in your face." His comment was acknowledged with a nod and a salute, before he turned on his heel and headed towards his well-earned whiskey.

* * *

**Thanks for making it this far. I've deliberately made the part about Shepard vague, as her background is obviously one of the main focuses of the story and will have a bigger role later on. I hope it hasn't been too frustrating! Please keep the feedback coming. More soon.**


	3. Chapter 3: Just Another Day

**A/N: again, thanks to those who have reviewed / messaged for your kind words. I know there was a bit of confusion over military ranks in ME3, so to avoid confusion, let me clarify that this particular story distinguishes between marine (2LT, 1LT, Capt, Maj, Lt Col, Col, Gen) and naval (ENS, LTJG, LT, Lt Cdr, Cdr, Capt, Adm) ranks. Just in case you get hung up on that kind of thing :)**

* * *

"The area is very well defended, with…" the recon leader's voice became little more than white noise as Shepard studied the reconstruction of the bunker hovering in front of her. _Mercs finally learnt how to hunker down_, she mused. The area certainly looked impregnable, with an admirable exploitation of the surrounding terrain.

On the surface, Eletania was rapturous. Lush jungle vegetation swarmed over rolling hills, its untamed vibrancy breathing life into the uncolonized world. When the Alliance had first discovered the planet, initial surveys of the topography determined that it was perfect for agriculture. Tea, long enjoyed by humanity – and indeed the broker of many a trade agreement in ages past – still required terraced, fertile farmland. The recent Asari love affair with the Earthen brew only encouraged more private companies to jump onto the colonization bandwagon. Unfortunately, Eletania was too good to be true. While the local flora was a teasing sight to behold, the fauna was the atmosphere killer – literally. Made up of an aerosol web of symbiotic micro-organisms, it proved impossible to filter using traditional hardsuit systems. Its predictable ability to induce anaphylactic shock in any non-native life-forms was the nail in the coffin, and on-going colonization efforts were abandoned.

The mercs had made their base in a valley flanked on either side by cliffs too steep to traverse. _Wonder how they managed to even build it. And since when could mercs afford to install laminar flow environments in a goddamn bunker anyway?_ They had evidently made a clearing just inside the valley, for the rear of the compound was completely overgrown with thick foliage. The front of the compound opened onto a grassy plain which doubled as a landing pad and supply hub. It was the only available point of attack, but was also impeccably defended. Long-range scans had showed two anti-aircraft cannons nestled in the surrounding cliff-faces. Any ship attempting an aerial bombardment would be shot down in seconds. There was a small blind spot two klicks south of the complex, but nowhere near large or strategic enough to get some decent shots off. The bunker opened conically into the plain. That same cone was covered by a ring of automated anti-materiel turrets, with anti-personnel ones interspersed for good measure. _Talk about fucking overkill. Jesus_.

Shepard had been given command of the 5th Battalion, reasonably small with only two companies comprising four platoons each. _192 men and 10 officers. Typical_._ And here I thought enlistment rates were up. At least they were kind enough to throw in a couple of N6s this time._ Frustrated, she drummed her fingers against the butt of her pistol, lost in thought. _Only enough sealed envirosuits for two platoons. Brass obviously thought we'd be storming in the Makos. But the goddamn trucks won't last ten minutes against those guns. Frigate may be able to take out half those guns before being shot down. May. Come on, think… what would Bruce Lee do?_ That last thought caused her to physically roll her eyes. _Really, Shep? Fucking Bruce Lee? In the middle of planning yet another suicidal attack run and all you can think about is what some long-dead kung-fu wielding baddass would do? What are you gonna do, kick a sandbag at the turrets? Goddamnit, focus! _

"Uh… ma'am?" Shepard glared at the captain who had interrupted her thoughts. "Ramsden, tell your men to stand by for orders." _Think, think, think! _Absently, she ran a thumb over the scar framing her jawline. _Three Makos per platoon, and they're the only way to get ground-side. Four would be enough for effective makeshift cover for two platoons, but all the guns would have to be taken out to draw the scum out… Still no fucking clue how many are inside and no guarantee we'd even be able to push past them, get inside and retrieve the package. Infiltration is out… no other entry point. Unless…_ seeing the large exhaust fans at the rear of the building, a feral grin formed on her face.

* * *

Ramsden regarded the woman standing across from him warily, stinging from what might as well have been Shepard snapping "Ramsden, shut the fuck up!" _The Butcher of Torfan_. His heart had sunk when emergency orders had revealed who his new commanding officer was. He didn't know anything about her beyond the fact that most of the men and women under her command tended to end up dead. _Probably why she needed some new meat in the first place. Fucking navy spec ops. No way she'd have fucked up so bad if she'd been a marine._

He found it hard to believe it had only been one solar day since the SSV Cape Town had deployed. He had reported to Arcturus, pissed to hell and back that shore leave had been cancelled. _And all to rescue a fucking turian_, as he later found out. _Since when did we become the galaxy's errand-boys?_ Shepard's inspection of her new battalion appeared cursory, but he saw where her eyes looked. Much as he hated to admit it, the bitch knew what she was doing. She was inspecting a battalion, for crying out loud. How did she manage to check everything – and then some – in half the time it took him to square a company away?

He'd kept his eyes trained on her the whole inspection. He knew what she looked like from the vids, of course, but seeing her in person was something else. She was of fairly average height, which was surprising in itself. _Those goddamn vids always make her look so big and scary._ She had a lithe frame which belied her power – that much was evident with the ferocity with which she snapped to when Admiral Hackett had entered the room. Her facial features, though angular in all the right places, were softer than he had expected. _Then again_, he supposed, _anyone's face would be hardened by that glare_. Her eyes were her most unnerving quality. It was almost impossible not to be transfixed when she had looked his way. They were a striking emerald green, which could have been stunning, had they belonged to a person with a warmer affect. Instead, they were lancing and unsettling. He could not be sure how someone could have such an effect on him without even speaking, and he had straightened imperceptibly, not wanting to chance running afoul of those eyes.

* * *

"Ringer!" Shepard barked at the other captain in the room.

"Ma'am?"

"Bravo company will be deploying first with half of Charlie. You are in command. Lieutenants Chan and Piper," she fixed her gaze at the junior officers standing in the background. "You now report to Captain Ringer." Not waiting to acknowledge their assent, she turned back to the visibly paled captain. "You're going in hot. The moment your hatches open, have your biotics throw up a barrier against the local pests. Colonization efforts showed that higher altitudes, where wind is strong enough to whip away the bugs, are survivable. Same principle should apply to the biotic barriers. Your primary objective is to neutralize the three anti-materiel turrets. If you can disable the anti-personnel ones as well, then do so. Clear?"

The captain straightened, throwing off a crisp salute, which she returned with a nod. They both knew what the orders meant. "Aye, ma'am."

Turning, she continued. "Ramsden. Once Ringer has completed his primary objective, your remaining company will deploy. I want your men suited up and ready to give those fuckers hell. Draw the bastards out, use the Makos as cover. If they won't come out, even better. Waltz in the front door."

* * *

Ramsden could barely stop himself from shaking in anger as the Butcher gave her orders. _Ringer and his men are gonna be cut down. A third of the tanks will be toast before the troops even have time to unload and she knows it. Even those who make it out of the tanks don't stand a chance. There aren't enough biotics to cover 150 men. The unlucky ones will have two minutes tops before they collapse and suffocate from a swollen airway. The rest will be mowed down by those goddamn turrets. 150 men! Just to take out some guns so we can save a fucking turian and be owed squat by the overgrown dodos!_ It was then that he noticed Shepard's plan had not included herself. _She's one of those_ he thought bitterly. _One of those holier-than-thou FUCKS who lets her men die then sashays in to take all the glory. Fuck it, if I'm gonna die for her next piece of tin…_

He all but spat, glaring at her. "What about you, ma'am?" Instantly, those eyes were upon him, and he could almost feel himself shrinking under her glower.

Her glacial response belied the fire in her eyes. "Twenty minutes before Ringer's company deploys, the Kodiak will drop Cooke, Aleks and me here." She gestured first to the two N6s in the far corner, before pointing at the AA blind spot.

Ramsden's eyes widened before disappearing under a series of rapid blinks. _Is she fucking nuts? Two clicks south of the compound with vegetation as thick as thieves in the way and no envirosuit? Even if she makes it to the compound alive, how the hell does she think she'll get in?_ "Uh, ma'am, the terrain –"

"Is nothing we can't handle." _Tell me the crazy bitch isn't GRINNING. We're all going to die and this is all going to go to fuck._ Then, as if reading his mind, she gestured at the exhaust fans. "We get this to stop spinning for 10 seconds and the three of us are in. You have your orders, Captain. Dismissed."

Protocol long drilled into him took over; he snapped to, saluted and turned on his heel to brief his men. _They're gonna need one shit-hot speech…_

* * *

_This is too fucking clever for mercs_. Shaking her head imperceptibly, Shepard pushed the gnawing feeling to one side and suited up.


	4. Chapter 4: Why is Nothing Ever Simple?

Tucking her head over her knees, Shepard curled into a ball, momentum hurling her forward before she came to a crashing halt against an unyielding tree trunk. The sudden impact winded her, her barrier flickering for a moment before the swimming world came back into focus. Ignoring the grinding ache spreading through her, she sprang up and whipped around, relaxing when she saw Aleks and Cooke unshipping their weapons a few feet from her. It had taken a ferocious amount of concentration to simultaneously set the two men down safely and maintain the barrier surrounding them. Behind them, the Kodiak was little more than a blip on the horizon, the positioning of the AA guns giving the party only a split-second window to deploy. At top speed.

"You alright, ma'am?" the concern was evident in the Cooke's voice.

Nodding, she opened up a comm link. "Kodiak. Status."

"Ma'am, clear of the LZ without a scratch."

"Good. Maintain radio silence, but be ready for priority extraction. Shepard out."

The dense overgrowth was suffocating, blocking all light and smothering them in darkness. The humidity and heat were over powering. Despite her hardsuit's internal climate control, Shepard could feel sweat breaking out over her brow, and every breath felt… wet. Ignoring her rising discomfort, she oriented herself with her omni-tool. Satisfied, she unshipped her rifle, gesturing to her party to move out.

* * *

Shepard leaned into the corner, trying to see what lay beyond. They had made it to the base in just under 15 minutes. N1 required them to be able to run that distance in under seven, but hey, they had had the vegetables to contend with. The dash had brought back unpleasant memories of the N2 jungle survival course, where they had been dumped in the middle of a Burmese jungle with nothing more than two days' worth of field rations and the clothes on their back. The record for making it out had been nine days. Once they had made it to the base, infiltrating it had been relatively simple, Shepard suspending the overgrown fan to allow access to the ventilation shafts.

Now, they were standing at a T-junction of sorts. Seeing nothing on either side, Shepard indicated to Aleks, pointing right, then to herself, pointing left. Nodding, they swung out, but the coast was clear. The corridor stretched for a few metres on either side of where they were standing, before ending in another at right angles. _Rooms must fan out from a central square_, she thought. _Makes sense given surface scans._ The only other thing of note in this particular corridor was a solitary door on the facing wall. Pointing to it, the soldiers moved with practiced efficiency, the two men covering their flanks while Shepard took point.

Ensuring no one was in the line of fire, Shepard tapped the door open.

"About time, Nolat, I was beginning to wonder where my cof–" the merc's grumble was cut short as Shepard appeared behind him, slitting his throat with her boot knife. "Clear ma'am," her men muttered, having pivoted into the room as she charged. "Aleks, see what you can learn from that terminal. Cooke, cover the door. It seems we're expecting company." _Four minutes until Ringer deploys_. Shepard knelt beside the crumpled body Aleks had shoved aside. _Equipment is military-grade_, she noted, her sense of unease deepening. _Never encountered mercs with this kind of tech_. Rolling the body over, she studied the foreign insignia over his right shoulder. It was a yellow, elongated hexagon, the southern vertex broken and flanked symmetrical… _supports, I suppose_. She scanned the body with her omni-tool for transfer to Intelligence, just as the door whooshed open.

"What the –" the new entrant stiffened as Cooke's pistol pressed against her temple. Shepard straightened, unshipping her silenced pistol and smiling wickedly.

"Where is Rykin Shulik?" She toyed with the weapon dangerously as the woman blinked.

"The turian? The fuck do you want with him?"

Shepard sighed, before grabbing the merc's neck, cutting off her air. In one fluid motion, she shattered her shield generator with the butt of her pistol, before firing at the woman's kneecap. Her soundless shriek sent a shiver of familiarity up Shepard's spine, which she promptly willed away. "You didn't answer my question. Let's try that again – and I don't think I have to explain what happens if the next sound you make isn't what I want to hear."

She eased her grip on the shaking, clammy neck. "R-right c-corner. F-first corridor on your left, r-room at the end." _Three minutes_.

"The exterior defences. How are they operated?"

"F-from the s-security hub. I – I –"

Aleks looked up from the terminal. "Ma'am, looks like the hub is in the opposite direction. Building layout is easy to grasp. One level, four corridors in a square. Room the merc referenced is off the western one, so are the barracks and armoury. Security hub is in the mirror of this room off the eastern corridor. Big power draw opposite the hub. Some kind of lab would be my guess."

Turning her attention back to the merc, Shepard snarled. "How many of you are there?"

"A-a hundred, g-give or take."

"Sounds about right from requisitions orders, ma'am."

"Alright, we don't have a lot of time, let's move." She looked at the merc disdainfully. Almost as an afterthought, she raised her weapon, aiming at the woman's forehead. The merc's eyes only had time to widen, before her head recoiled violently. _Two minutes_.

She turned her attention to her men. "Aleks. Wait here for 30 seconds then head to the security hub and see what you can do about the exterior defences. You should encounter minimal resistance. Cooke, with me. Let's move." _I'm tired of this sneaking bullshit_.

Swiftly, the pair exited the room, Shepard turning right at a trot, with Cooke backpedalling to keep their rear covered. The adjoining corridor appeared deserted. _This is starting to feel a bit too easy_. Her gut had been churning ever since the long-range scans had detailed the base's defences, and its apparent desertion was doing nothing to quell her disquiet. Spying her destination a little ways off, Shepard darted across, indicating for Cooke to do the same. This particular corridor ended blindly in the door the merc had been referring to. The only other access point was a door which presumably led to the barracks. Shepard knew that the barracks needed to be cleared. Doing so first would allow them to take their time securing Shulik. However, setting off alarms risked the mercs taking him out before they would have the chance to get to him. Despite the brass' assurances that the VIP was too important for the mercs to neuter, Shepard didn't want to leave any room for the fan-hitting shit that seemed to follow her everywhere. Shifting her gaze to Cooke, she began to indicate her orders.

* * *

Rykin Shulik glanced disinterestedly at the security feeds. Shepard had swept through a quarter of the base in just over three minutes. While her point of entry had been daring and inspired, and her movements ruthlessly efficient, he was so far distinctly unimpressed. He would have given her points for avoiding the cameras, but, in her defence, they were very well concealed, and only the terminal in this room had access to their feeds. _Time to inject a bit of vigour, I think_.

"Mr Hastings, I believe we have been remiss in not extending our guests a warm welcome. Please see to it that this is rectified."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Shepard held up three fingers, counting down in silence. Just as she was about to make a fist, the door to the barracks hissed open. Quickly, she sliced her had across her neck, indicating Cooke to abort. She pressed against the wall, listening for footsteps. Instead, all she heard was an oddly-familiar tinkling sound. Eyes widening in recognition, she abandoned all pretence of stealth. "MOVE!" she roared, simultaneously diving away and aiming a rough throw in Cooke's direction.

Her reaction would have been fast enough to avoid injury under normal circumstances. This time, however, the fuckers had evidently cooked the grenade. Shepard felt her dive suddenly increase in speed, and she barely had time to curl into a ball before she was slammed into the far wall. The force of the impact drove the air from her lungs and her pistol from her grip. She gasped for air, the action only resulting in lancing agony as fractured ribs rubbed against each other. _Get up, Shep. You're a sitting duck out here_. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she scrambled to her feet, snapping to cover and unshipping her rifle in the same motion.

As the pain faded with the activation of her hardsuit's medical protocols, she peeked around the corner. _Still clear_. Judging by the force she flung at Cooke, he was probably in her exact position along the north corridor. Both knew they could not chance giving away their location by calling out to each other. Closing her eyes, she listened for the inevitable follow-up charge. As the rumbled loudened, she leaned out and focused, her arm wreathed in blue. As the nose of an assault rifle came into view, she flicked her wrist, creating a singularity which pulled the charging unit into the air. Instantly, her rifle snapped up, opening fire on the hapless mercs. From the other end of the corridor, she heard Cooke do the same. Caught in the crossfire, a dozen bodies slumped to the floor in seconds, the singularity vanishing with a whoop.

The moment the bodies hit the floor, Shepard stormed out of cover, sprinting for the wall where she had stood just moments before. Cooke was a split-second behind. Peeking out, she immediately snapped her head back as bullets whizzed towards her. _Fuck this_, she thought, as she stowed her rifle and unshipped her shotgun. Staying out of the line of fire, she backed up against the facing wall, giving herself space and signalling Cooke to stand down. Breaking into a sprint, she concentrated her energy, thrusting herself forward and sliding to the ground as she entered the hallway. Bullets hurtled overhead before the startled mercs adjusted their aim, slugs gouging holes in the ground behind her head. She slammed into their makeshift barrier feet first, grunting with exertion as she channelled her biotics into a shockwave. The firing stopped momentarily as the entrenched men tumbled to the floor, necks broken from their rendezvous with the surrounding walls.

Tightening her stomach muscles, Shepard leapt into a forward roll, grabbing a pistol off the ground as she took cover by the door leading to the barracks. No sooner had she done so than gunfire erupted, ammo shredding into the wall facing the doorway. She gestured Cooke over, indicating to him to watch the doorway. _Less than a minute. Where the fuck is Aleks?_ "Aleks!" she barked into her comm. "What's the status on those goddamn turrets?"

"Aleks, do you read?"

Silence.

Cursing, she turned her attention back to the doorway, just as a mechanical voice sounded. "Alert! Perimeter breach detected. Automated defences activated. All available personnel, please report to decontamination chambers and prepare to engage hostiles."

"Ma'am should I go check on Aleks?" She could barely hear Cooke over the din.

"Negative," Shepard snapped. "Given the turrets are active and he's not responding, he's probably dead or under heavy fire. That means either we were fooled or the security hub is a hornet's nest. Either way, there's nothing we can do now. The priority is to rescue Shulik, if he hasn't already been killed."

Catching his nod, she listened for a pause in fire. Hearing it, she chanced a swift look into the room, smirking when she saw bunks built into the walls and mercs holed up behind rows of overturned furniture in the middle of the room. "Covering fire," she ordered. As Cooke obliged, she stood. Flexing her elbows, she drew her arms back in an arc, before propelling them forward and hurtling towards the rearmost barricade in a flash of blue. Before the mercs could blink, let alone turn, she was behind them, two already having sunk to the floor, their backs bent at an unnatural angle. Another had his neck snapped from behind, before she ducked down, kicking the last one's legs out from under him with a sweep of her leg. By the time he hit the ground, his face was nothing more than a pulp courtesy of a jarring introduction to her shotgun.

Pressed against the desk, she waited for Cooke to resume his covering fire before popping out and focusing all her energy on the metal bunks built into the wall. Snarling with exertion, she heaved. The tower of metal came apart with a screech, careening towards the helpless souls underfoot. Switching her attention back to the doorway, she pushed forward on the balls of her feet, materialising beside Cooke just makeshift wrecking ball came crashing down.

* * *

Now, Shulik's interest was piqued. Over 40 men taken out in two minutes, and they hadn't even grazed her. _No, the grenade doesn't count. And these guys are no vorcha, I've seen them in action myself_._ Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all…_

Turning off the terminal and initiating a scrub protocol, the turian turned to the human he had addressed earlier. "Mr Hastings, it appears we will soon be beset by a juggernaut. I have a plan which may save us but you must play along in its entirety."

"Y-yes sir." The human was visibly panicked, having witnessed Shepard's decimation of his charges first-hand.

"I need you to restrain me to this chair. Make it convincing and as uncomfortable for me as you must. Miss Reyes, keep your gun hidden and change into some civvies. Stow your armour out of sight. Mr Hastings, stand behind me and hold Miss Reyes in front of you at gunpoint. Keep her head between yours and the Alliance guns at all times. Mr Middleton, get behind those desks in the far corner and train your sniper on me. When I signal, enable the laser sight – for dramatic effect. Oh, and activate that turret, will you?"

Satisfied that everything was in order, he waited in macabre anticipation.

* * *

Though her hands were trembling slightly from her efforts, Shepard refused to allow herself the luxury of recovery. Briefly, she wondered how Bravo and Charlie were faring, before dismissing the thought and sweeping towards the door they had been aiming for all evening. _Bet a bottle of Risa's finest the fucker's dead_, she thought bitterly. Once Cooke was in position and she was satisfied all her equipment was in the right place, she unholstered her pistol and tapped the door open. _At least the fuckers had the decency not to lock the –_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a burst which could only have come from an automated turret. From its pattern and rate of fire, as well as the calibre of rounds lodged in the far wall, she gathered it was a PMX467. A vicious beast even by black market standards, the turret utilised a combination of infrared and motion sensors to rip its prey to shreds. Aside from an initial winding activation, the machine needed no external power source – converter units mounted within the heat sinks converted thermal energy into a self-perpetuating power source. It also meant the damn thing could fire indefinitely.

_Finally something worth the price of admission_, she mused. Shepard didn't know how many men were in that room or where they were positioned, but it was a moot point if that turret was left unattended. Activating her omni-tool, she selected a program and fired a high-explosive plasma round towards the ceiling. Hearing the change in firing direction, and knowing she had less than a second to act, she charged. As she tore towards the turret, she drew both fists back, gathering her all her strength and throwing it into the gun. Her gloves rent under the energy of the impact, and she felt the warm gush of blood contrast against the cold metal. Ignoring the burning in her hands, she did nothing to slow her momentum until nothing was left of the turret but a pile of scrap metal. Having spotted the glint of a muzzle to her left and three figures on her right en-route, Shepard planted her foot against the wall, using the purchase to push herself into another dive. Rolling, she stopped behind a desk, mentally noting where the hidden gun was.

"P-please don't let him kill me!" came a shriek.

"Shut up! Come out, both of you, or this bitch dies." A male voice this time. _He sounds terrified. Good._

"You assume I give a fuck about a complete stranger" Shepard retorted, refusing to budge. "Where's Shulik?"

"Right beside me. Come see for yourself."

Shepard was not about to expose herself to that hidden gun, but she had to confirm the turian was alive. Positioning herself such that the sniper did not have a clear shot, she stood, pistol raised in the direction of the male voice. _Well, well, brass was right for once_. The turian appeared unharmed, and looked exactly like the still she had been briefed with. Reddish-brown face plates adorned with flowing white clan markings framed a pair on intense green eyes. He was even wearing the same black armour with the shoddy red paint job. He was bound to a chair, his wrists restrained tightly to his ankles such that his back arched into the chair. To say the position was uncomfortable would be a monumental understatement.

The man who appeared to be in control stood behind the turian with his arms around the neck of a woman in civvies. He held a pistol to her temple, but other than his arms, no part of him was visible. Shepard's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight. _Civvie my butt. She's practically grasping for a weapon of some sort. Boss fucker must be in on it or he would've noticed_. _First major fuckup all evening. _

"You're here for the turian. I'll make you an offer. My man over there in the corner has his sights trained on Mr Shulik here." He paused dramatically while a laser dot danced over the turian's forehead; Shepard rolled her eyes. _This freak's watched too many fucking movies_. Sneering, he continued. "Let my hostage and me walk out of here, followed by my man, and he's all yours. Attempt to take out my friend and this civvie bitch bites the dust. So, what say you, Alliance?"

_Rookie, _Shepard thought derisively as she signalled Cooke imperceptibly. With an almost lazy flick of her wrist, the sniper found himself suspended in mid-air. At the same time, Shepard fired, her bullet piercing the foreheads of both the "civvie" and the one who talked too much. A quick burst of gunfire told her Cooke had understood and taken out the remaining merc.

"You ok?" she asked, striding over to the turian. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, gesturing at the restraints. "Where are the release codes?"

"His omni-tool. And I am fine, thank you, Commander…"

"Shepard, Systems Alliance."

"Rykin Shulik. But you knew that."

Casting the turian an indifferent glance, she released him. "I have orders to escort you back to the SSV Cape Town. If you have questions they will be answered then." Turning, she activated her comm. "SSV Cape Town this is ground team one. Shulik is secure, request status update on Bravo and Charlie companies…"

* * *

Studying the human in front of him, Shulik's mandibles twitched. _I'm not sure I'm the one who's going to have questions… this is going to be interesting, much more for me than for you, I suspect, Commander Shepard._


	5. Chapter 5: No Rest for the Weary

**A/N: thank you everyone who has dropped a note / review for the words of encouragement – its humbling and I appreciate it muchly. Please keep them coming – they are strong motivators! Quick warning - I've taken a few *tiny* liberties with established military protocol in the following chapter. Especially with Memorial Day around the corner, this is for the men and women who protect and serve. I hope I can do you some semblance of justice.**

* * *

_Fading light dims the sight  
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright  
From afar drawing nigh,  
Falls the night._

_Day is done, gone the sun  
From the lakes, from the hills, from the skies  
All is well, safely rest;  
God is nigh._

_Then goodnight, peaceful night;  
Till the light of the dawn shineth bright.  
God is near, do not fear,  
Friend, goodnight._

– by Horace Lorenzo Trim, to the tune of _Taps_

* * *

_Arlington National Cemetery, Virginia, USA. One week later._

Around him, leaves rustled under the caress of a cool spring breeze. The only other sound was the mournful melody of _Taps_ emanating from a lone bugle. The arrangement, composed entirely using a mere three notes, was unassuming, yet its haunting power moistened the eyes of many present. In the centre of the gathering, six marines in full dress stood solemnly, an Alliance flag held taut in their hands. At the head of the gravesite, a rifle party of seven stood at attention, the butts of their M-16 rifles rested on the floor, muzzles gripped in their right hands. Despite being the prerogative of museums, the rifle still had its place in military tradition. As the final note trembled through the air, dozens of gloved hands lowered slowly from eyes they had shielded.

In silence, the honour guard began folding the flag. In 12 meticulous symbolic motions, the fabric was condensed into a triangle, the gold Alliance logo pointing up at the azure sky. He watched as the deceased's commanding officer marched towards the honour guard, elegantly attired in a crisp set of full ceremonial dress whites. Around her neck was draped a medal hung from a cerulean ribbon; this marked her as a hero, and required any armed forces member, regardless of rank, to salute her. Her left chest was adorned with lesser medals; and the ribbons over her right further emphasized her service history. She marched with a grace borne of practice, her officer's sword held perfectly parallel to her right arm, swinging in tandem. Coming to attention before the folded flag, she steadily raised the grip to her lips, before extending her arm and lowering the weapon towards the ground.

The salute lasted a minute, the sombre silence interrupted only by the widow's hushed sobs which the warm sunlight tried to soothe. Sheathing her weapon without so much as a glance at its scabbard, the officer accepted the pro-offered flag with both hands. Pausing only to lay three spent shell casings into the folds of the flag before tucking it in, she turned and marched to the deceased's family. Kneeling, she spoke, her voice gentle and soft but audible to all against the roaring silence.

"On behalf of the Prime Minister of the Alliance and the Chief of Naval Operations, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's service to humanity and Corps."

The widow was trembling visibly, and seemed unable to meet the officer's gaze. For a moment, he was terrified that she would refuse the flag. Fortunately, her son, himself in dress whites, put a steadying hand on her shoulder, guiding her arms towards the flag with the other. Standing, the officer repeated her sword salute. Military courtesy dictated she keep her sword lowered until her sign of respect was acknowledged, and she did so, the blade pointed to the ground and thirty degrees away from the widow. Over a minute later, it became apparent that no acknowledgement was forthcoming; neither family member had deigned to face her. Though she concealed it exceptionally well, he knew her well enough to recognise the look of sadness which crossed her face. Eyes never leaving the widow, she bowed her head and repeated the salute, before turning and marching back to her position.

"ATTENTION!" a lone voice barked. In an instant, seven pairs of feet crashed together.

"Port, ARMS!" As one, the seven riflemen raised their weapons to their left shoulders. Their left hands grasped the barrel, before their right hand shifted from muzzle to stock.

"Right shoulder, ARMS!" Hands moved from stock to butt, before the rifles shifted, coming to rest at a 45-degree angle, barrel-up, on the soldiers' shoulders.

"Right, FACE!" Seven bodies pivoted expertly to the right on the balls of their left and heels of their right feet respectively. Without missing a beat, seven legs were drawn forwards, finishing off a smart 90-degree turn.

"Forward, MARCH!" With the final command, the riflemen made their exit, and the crowd dispersed, leaving the widow to her sorrow. Eventually, she too was guided away by her son, leaving two figures standing by the grave. One stood at attention, keeping vigil over the body till its interment. The other regarded the coffin, her face a mask and seemingly expressionless. Slowly, she reached up to her chest, deftly unpinning a medal and laying it atop the coffin reverently. As she did so, she suddenly seemed bereft of energy, her posture sagging. The sign of grief was only fleeting, however; with her next breath she was turning sharply, striding away from the grave. The vigil stared ahead, giving no indication of what he might have witnessed.

* * *

Anderson lifted his combination cap, wiping his forehead before replacing it and tugging at his standing collar. Ceremonial dress whites were so much more uncomfortable than service dress blues; he was glad he rarely had occasion to don them. Standing by the exit to the cemetery, he leaned against the wall, watching the mourners taking off in their sky cars. He had places to be and things to do, but they could wait for now.

The funeral-goers had completely departed by the time she strode out of the gates, passing him without a glance. He straightened, trotting after her.

"Commander Shepard."

She whirled, hand grasping the grip of her ceremonial sword, before a look of recognition crossed her face. Snapping to attention, she saluted. "Captain Anderson."

Raising an eyebrow, he returned the salute with a smirk. "None of that. Buy an old man a drink?"

Shepard regarded him sternly before her features softened into an amused expression and a half-grin. "Last I checked, you earn more than me," she scoffed. "Fine, but only if you promise to take me home after, goddamn Romeo-wannabe."

"You drive a hard bargain," he replied, already shooing her to his waiting sky car.

"At least let me get out of this costume first."

"Uh, no strings attached?" he teased, before his (admittedly groan-inducing) attempt at innuendo was rewarded with an elbow to the ribs.

* * *

"Really, Anderson? Years since we last met and you want to get tanked in a piss-poor excuse for a bar located in launch HQ, of all places? You do realise I've been on Earth less than a day, and that a week ago I was yanked from the serenity of the galaxy naval boxing champs to save some worthless turian ass? Did I mention it was the semis? Fuck, we are _not_ getting pissed in an Alliance watering hole."

He barely suppressed a snort – her exasperated glare was his undoing, though, and he broke out into a chuckle. "Serenity, huh?"

"Damn straight. Old man, you're getting soft in your old age. You are not. Landing." Shepard stated flatly, sighing as the sky car came to a halt.

"Come on, Commander. Stop sulking." Cursing with words that actually threatened to make him blush, Shepard trudged out, immediately heading towards The Turf. "Where do you think you're going?"

She rolled her eyes. "Uh, Houston to Anderson, The Turf is the only place to obtain alcohol in this goddamn base?"

"Yes, that would be a sight for sore eyes… Captain Anderson and his protégé Commander Shepard, decked out in full ceremonial dress, staggering around The Turf in a drunken haze to the melody of their clattering medals. The men will have a field day."

"So where do you propose… oh HELL NO! I should have known not to take the goddamn bait," Shepard grumbled, twisting her features into a disgusted expression and tilting her head from side to side vigorously. "Buy me a drink, get pissed with an old friend! Too fucking easy… hook, line and sinker. I'm getting careless, making this shit too easy for you." Sighing, her expression turned serious. "OK, sir. Just give me the orders and I'll be ready to ship out in an hour."

Smiling, he reached out and pat her shoulder. "We don't have to report to launch base till 0700 tomorrow. Till then, I fully intend to indulge in some refreshments of the inebriating nature. Come on, I have something you'll appreciate." Turning, he lead the way, pausing when he realised she was not following, instead fixing him with a puzzled look.

"We?"

"Yes, Commander," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You're my new XO."

* * *

Slapping the door closed, Shepard walked into her quarters, not even bothering with the lights. Reaching up, she unhooked the medal around her neck, casting a disgusted glance at it before chucking it towards the case which lay open on her desk. Deftly, she undid her collar, inhaling deeply in relief as its choke hold on her neck was finally released. The other fastenings followed swiftly, ceremonial sword and items of clothing falling swiftly away, leaving a trail from the door to her bed. In seconds, she was clad in nothing more than a black sports bra and her panties.

With a sigh, she set her chrono to wake her at 0600 and flopped onto the bed. At least there was no packing to worry about – she had only had the time to unpack her dress whites before it was time to leave for Arlington. _Arlington_. Suddenly, she was standing in front of a trembling woman, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached. It had been the only thing she could do to bury her own rising sorrow and guilt. Less than half the battalion had survived the assault on Elysium, and Ringer had not been amongst them. _And for what?_ She thought bitterly. Somehow, the mercs had known Aleks was headed for the security hub. The moment he'd opened the door, a cooked grenade had been hurled his way. There had not been much in the way of remains for the journey back home to Earth. _Should've sent Cooke with him. Could've stormed the barracks quicker, taken _them_ by surprise instead of the other way round. Would've helped the men._

They hadn't even needed the frontal assault in the end. _You're pathetic. Ramsden and Ringer drew out the other 60 fuckers. There was no alternative_. Shepard didn't really believe that argument any more. She had taken so many lives, ordered so many men to their deaths that no amount of justification could ease her rising numbness. _Aside from the fact that you've used it to lie to yourself, or are you forgetting…_ angrily, Shepard pushed the thought from her mind. There was always an alternative, _like heading for the fucking hub first_, but it was in the way of… _the mission_. Scowling in disgust, unable to contend with her thoughts any longer, she screwed her eyes shut. Sleep was a mean fucker, however, taunting her from a distance as her eyes flew open minutes later. Glancing at the chrono, she began a vigil of her own, waiting for the beeping which would have woken her.

* * *

The Normandy. She had never seen anything like it. The frigate had gleamed under the artificial glare of the docking bay, its sleek contours teasing at the aerial feats it was capable of. Now, they were already light-years away from Earth, tearing towards the Charon Relay and destined for the Exodus Cluster. The speed with which this was all happening had given her pause. In the eleven years she had been with the Alliance, she had never seen a crew assembled, ship commissioned and deployment orders put together so quickly.

Usually, she preferred to have combed through her soldier's personnel records before assuming command. That had not been possible today, however. A pile of them sat waiting for her to peruse in her quarters – though she was tempted to head there now, Anderson had asked her to keep an eye on the bridge while he took some calls in his quarters. "Commander, the Captain would like to see you in his quarters, ma'am." _Speak of the devil_, she thought as a voice she recognised as the pilot's rang out over the intercom. She had yet to meet him and still reserved judgement, but what she had glimpsed of his mannerisms struck her as… odd.

"Acknowledged."

Abandoning a terminal where she had been scrutinizing operational data, she turned sharply and strode towards a set of stairs flanking the CIC. A jumpy corporal sidestepped out of her path, throwing off a hasty salute which she returned. She vaguely remembered overhearing the doctor chastising him. _Jenkins_, _I think it was_. Taking the stairs two at a time, she found herself in the mess hall, which was a hive of activity. Crew members were bumping into each other, all rushing to-and-from their duty stations, cups of much-needed coffee grasped desperately in their hands. The obligatory small talk between people trying to get to know each other only contributed to the din. She ignored the chaos, making for the captain's quarters.

"Shepard. Have a seat." Anderson gestured to the empty chair. She obliged, but she had no intention of making this easy for him. Something was up, and she had a feeling Anderson was holding out on her. She looked at him, saying nothing, knowing from experience people unconsciously tended to want to fill any pauses in conversation.

Anderson was no fool, however, and he knew his XO well. "No doubt you suspect all is not what it seems." Shepard snorted, but continued to say nothing. "I can't brief you in full just yet, Shepard, but I promise you you'll have the full picture once we're in range of Eden Prime."

"Sir –" Shepard was interrupted by the pilot's announcement.

"All stations, secure for transit. Approach run has begun. Hitting relay in 3… 2… 1…. Aaaand ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Exodus cluster. A destination video has been made available on all omni-tools for your viewing pleasure. Thank you for flying with Star Alliance. Have a pleasant stay."

Anderson rolled his eyes at Shepard's raised eyebrow. "He grows on you… like a wart."

Shepard only snorted, a faint smirk appearing. "Sir, as I was saying –"

His expression turned serious. "Shepard, I need you to trust me on this one. We're about to rendezvous with a Council frigate. A Spectre will be coming abroad. He will be involved in the mission on Eden Prime, which is why I can't release any details. I'm sure you've heard the stories about how classified Spectre activities are." Shepard nodded. "In any case, I need to get down to the docking bay. The Spectre and I have to discuss some things in private, but I would like you to join us in the comm room in 15 minutes. In the meantime, go and get some coffee. You look like shit."

Throwing him a baleful look, she threw off a mock salute, then grinned. "Sir, ha. Ha. Sir."

Shaking his head, he gestured to the door with his hand, following her out.

* * *

Shepard stalked towards the comm room. Her conversation with Anderson had only served to heighten her unease about the whole shakedown run. Plus, they now had a Spectre on board. A Spectre. She would have had to have been born yesterday to believe one of those would give two fucks about a human shakedown run. Having a Spectre around made her restless. She did not trust anybody, much less over-hyped intergalactic super soldiers who did whatever they pleased without fear of reproach.

Lost in thought, she absently wandered into the comm room, looking up only as Anderson cleared his throat. Remembering why she was there, she straightened, saluting. "Morning, sir." He nodded, returning the salute and gesturing to a point behind her.

"Commander Shepard, this is Nihlus Kryik. He's one of the Council's most decorated agents, and will be assisting us in a few missions."

"Sir, it's a plea–" the words caught in her throat as she turned. Her eyes narrowed dangerously at the turian in the corner. She knew those eyes. Those intense green eyes framed by reddish-brown face plates adorned with flowing white clan markings. That black armour with the shoddy two-bit red paint job. Instinctively, her muscles tensed as she furtively gathered her biotic energy.

"Do you two know each other?" Anderson's voice was bewildered.

Nihlus said nothing, his eyes fixed on Shepard. A mandible flickered in what might as well have been a sardonic smirk.

"We've met," Shepard snarled. "_Rykin Shulik_. Clever little anagram. You'd better have a fucking good explanation ready."


	6. Chapter 6: Just a Simple Shakedown Run

**A/N: ammo *cough* **_**thermal clips**_** make an appearance – sorry if you don't like it, Conrad, but they're here to stay. Also, depending on what kind of movies you watch, there may / will be some disturbing imagery later on, of the gory violent nature. Not to be read in proximity of food. Or space hamsters.**

* * *

Nihlus eyed the human in front of him indifferently. He had not worked with many humans before, and was still attempting to match their little idiosyncrasies to more palpable emotions and intentions. This one was proving to be a case study in the subtleties of those nuances. He knew she was livid – hell, had he been played like that, _he_ most certainly would have been – but aside from the raging inferno in her eyes, her face seemed set in stone. As he looked closer, however, he saw some anatomical oddities that he filed away for future reference. Her lips were taut, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly in a thinly-veiled attempt to conceal a snarl. Said twitch coincided with an almost-imperceptible flaring of her nostrils. Further along, her jawline seemed tighter than he remembered, and he noted the increased prominence of her masseter muscles.

She stood an arm's length from him, leaning forward ever so slightly. Her every muscle was taut – for such a slender figure, their definition and the accompanying bulge of their attached tendons was unmistakable. Her hands were balled into fists, which she unclenched agonisingly slowly, as if she were forcing herself to do so. From personal experience, he knew the posture was meant to hold a promise of fire and brimstone, so he remained completely unfazed. _Humans are so melodramatic_, he thought with an inward disparaging sigh. _But they do have potential_.

Now, the human was leaning back, shifting her weight to one leg, her hip cocked slightly. She folded her arms, fixing him with a cold, taciturn glare. She did not need to say a word to communicate the obvious: _talk, or else_. Nihlus remained with his back leaned against the wall, one leg crossed over the other and fingers tapping the butt of his pistol. He was keenly aware that most species considered the repetitive sound grating – in this war of wills, he fully intended to exploit that. _Two can play at this game_.

Their motionless battle was interrupted by an admonishment which seemed to surprise the commander, though she schooled it exceptionally. "Soldiers!" Instantly, Shepard snapped to attention. Nihlus merely shifted his gaze apathetically, seeing Anderson pointing to each of them in turn. "_You_ are an Alliance naval officer and _you_ are a Council Spectre. Whatever bad blood there is between you two, you _will_ suck it up and act like the professionals you are. _Is that clear?_"

Face completely expressionless, unseeing eyes staring straight ahead, Shepard nodded. "Aye, sir." Nihlus, for his part, finally straightened. The human captain had no business rebuking him, but he would let it slide so that they could stop this tiring skirmish and get on with things.

"I'm interested in this world we're going to. Eden Prime. I've heard it's quite beautiful," he drawled.

Shepard flinched. "You ever heard the saying once a marine, always a marine? Well, I'm a marine, _sir_. I may have been transferred to naval spec ops, but that doesn't mean I'm here to ogle at the shrubbery, bask in the sunlight, reach for the stars, soar in the freedom of space, blah, blah, blah. I also have little patience for waffle. So. Let's start again. What's the mission?"

Ignoring the mini-tirade, Nihlus continued. "It's more than a pretty sight for gawking tourists and idealistic Alliance naval personnel, though, isn't it, Commander? It's a symbol of your people, your growing mark of graffiti on the galaxy. A perfect little utopia on the fringes of your territory. Proof that humanity can not only establish colonies across the galaxy, but also that you can protect them from the evil aliens. But," he sneered, seeing if she would rise to the bait. "How safe is it, really?"

Shepard, to her credit, did not react, merely fixing Nihlus with an icy glare. Before either could say anything, Anderson interrupted. "I'd be wary of whom you're threatening, Spectre, no matter how thinly-veiled the attempt." This irked him. He was finding it difficult to get a real measure of her with these constant interruptions. He was about to ask the captain for some privacy with the woman who he was about to take under his wing, when Anderson continued. "I think it's about time Shepard was briefed."

Sighing, Nihlus decided it could wait, although he was looking forward to her reaction when she found out how he had used her and her men a week ago. He had managed to kill two birds with one stone, assessing her potential while being extracted from that terrorist base with his cover intact. Depending on her reaction, he might consider letting her in on the operation. That bigoted pro-human group needed to be dealt with; he suspected their influence had grown beyond what the Council and Alliance desperately wanted to believe. Turning his attention back to the commander, he started to explain. "Eden Prime is more than a shakedown run."

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Really? What a shame. Here I was thinking shore leave was cancelled because –"

"Commander…" Anderson warned before Shepard's already-stoked temper got the better of her. Shepard shot him a look before turning back to the turian. "I apologise, sir. It has been a long week. _Please_, continue."

Ignoring the hint of sarcasm in her voice, Nihlus did just that. "One of your archaeological teams has…"

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard blinked. A Prothean beacon? No wonder they sent a Spectre. Nihlus' preaching about the importance of contributing to galactic society was soon drowned out by her thoughts as she assessed the impact the package would have on the mission. Who knew what that beacon held? The last time humanity had made a discovery like that, FTL travel had been developed. There were rumours abound that the turian's superior firepower, the asari's biotic prowess and even some of the infamous salarian gadgetry were the product of similar beacons. If word of the discovery got out before backup arrived, all manner of criminal scum would descend on the system. The colony's small garrison would be overrun in minutes – of that, she had no doubt. Her reverie was interrupted by a cough from Anderson. Suddenly, she noticed Nihlus was no longer talking. She glanced up to see that Anderson was tugging on his collar, a strange expression on his face. _What is he not telling me?_

"Sir?"

"There's more, Commander." A pause as he cleared his throat. "Nihlus is not simply here to advise. He is also here to evaluate. You."

_Wait, what?_

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" When Anderson nodded warily, she rounded on the Spectre. "Nihlus can evaluate my ass. I'm an Alliance soldier. What business does a Council lapdog that plays games with human lives have judging how I do my duty? Captain Ringer, sir, he was killed in an operation I _know_ this snake was somehow involved in."

"Your leaders seem to think humanity is ready to be represented in the Spectres. After recent events… I'm _less_ unconvinced." Nihlus' unfazed response made her blink. She glanced at Anderson, who actually looked guilty and the surprise being sprung on her. "Commander, Alliance Command would like you to be that representative."

_Me? A Spectre? I always thought the brass had horseshit for brains, but this is asinine, even for them._

"With all due respect, sir, who the fu–"

Shepard's indignant protest was interrupted by the pilot's rattled voice over the comm. "Captain! We've got a problem. Transmission from Eden Prime. You'll want to see this, sir. Patching it through."

Three pairs of eyes shifted to the holographic display, which had lit up with some kind of vid comm. The grainy feed had obviously been transmitted via a camera built into a standard-issue helmet. Shepard's eyes narrowed dangerously as she took in the sight. The feed started with the camera being shoved roughly to one side, the assailant wearing what appeared to be a Phoenix hardsuit. "Get down!" she yelled, before turning and opening fire. The camera shook from side-to-side, the wearer's gurgling noises chillingly audible over the gunfire as the view panned downwards. Two hands filled the screen, covered in blood as the gurgling became more deliberate.

Then, the camera pivoted left and another soldier appeared on-screen. He was charging towards it, expression hidden behind his faceplate. So focused was he on the camera that he did not notice the humanoid figure behind him, weapon raised. "Bhattia's down!" he yelled.

The same bloody hand entered the field of view, fingers shaking, unable to pinpoint the source of danger to the rushing marine. "B-behi-…" the whisper was barely audible over the thundering bubbling sound. The marine lurched forward, a smouldering crater where his head should have been. Before any of them could identify the shooter – let alone its species, it was cut down by a torrent of gunfire.

The gurgling was weakening now, ragged gasps drowning out the frantic chatter of the surrounding soldiers. Then, the view dropped abruptly, before it lulled to one side.

Suddenly, the frantic exchanges were audible again. "Bhattia! Shit, get to the damn comm!" A helmeted face appeared in view, and suddenly the camera was yanked upright, now showing the helmeted soldier pressed against some crates. "This is Lieutenant Stone of the 212. We are under attack taking heavy casualties. I repeat, heavy casualties! Need immediate evac at marked position, does anyone read?"

As he started to repeat his frantic message, his body jerked violently to the side, cutting him off. The camera fell to the ground, rolling around almost lazily, fixed at a point in the sky. The audio was still filled with the sounds of a raging battle, which contrasted almost ironically with the tranquil scene being broadcast.

Suddenly, however, the sky darkened. The sound of gunfire and screams of dying men was suddenly drowned out by one of the most unnatural noises Shepard had ever heard. It sounded like a groan of metal crumbling under stress coupled with that of nails scratching against a chalkboard. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nihlus flinch at the sound. What filled the screen next seemed to have been summoned from someone's perverse imagination. A black leviathan loomed, its – _tentacles?_ – reaching towards the camera as if to choke the life out of it. At that instant, there was a flash of red punctuated by violent shrieks, before the scene hissed into static.

Despite the years of combat all three of them had seen, the video had disturbed each of them, rendering them motionless in stunned silence. Anderson whirled, his eyes on fire. "Shepard, Nihlus. We need to move, now. Get to the beacon before those sons of bitches do. And see if you can't get our people out of there while you're at it."

Shepard did not need any encouragement, every muscle itching to stick it to those cowards; she had already turned towards the exits when Anderson spoke.

"Aye, sir."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Kaidan Alenko cast a cagey glance at the figure opposite him. She was crouched almost predatorily over the body of a marine, dispassionately salvaging thermal clips and medigel without so much as an inkling of reverence for the dead. He grit his teeth and clenched his fists, resisting the urge to reach around her an close the sergeant's eyes. Something revolting must have happened here for a hardened soldier to go down with such a terrified expression on his face. As if sensing his eyes on her, she spoke as she continued rifling through the body. "Something you want to say, lieutenant?"

Flustered at his faux pax and wondering how she had known he was glowering at her, he cleared his throat. "Uh, no ma'am, just thinking we should take scans of the body for Alliance Intelligence. These injuries look… bad", he finished weakly. Now, she studied him with those glacial eyes. He could almost feel himself shrinking under her gaze. After a long moment, she gestured at the body.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Flip him and be done with it." _Shit, she wants _me_ to desecrate his body now? Sweet Jesus, Alenko, you need to learn how to keep your mouth shut._ Swallowing hard and feeling himself starting to sweat despite his hardsuit's climate control, he knelt over the body and activated his omni-tool. _Sorry, sarge_. The dirty work complete, he got to his feet and looked around. The commander was crouched behind a large boulder a few feet away, Jenkins beside her. With a sigh, he unshipped his weapon, trotting over to join them. _This will either be your shortest or longest tour yet_, he thought to himself bitterly as he got into position.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Jenkins gawked unabashedly at the woman next to him. He had heard so many stories about his new XO, and he could scarcely have believed his luck when the Captain had ordered him to suit up. Imagine that! Corporal Richard L. Jenkins, diving into the fray with the Butcher of Torfan! And she was a biotic, too! He had been on the receiving end of a biotic throw before – the LT had saved his life in a live-fire exercise gone wrong. The experience had been awesome – he had actually flown! And now, a mission with _two_ biotics? Oh, the stories he was going to tell! He smiled as he began planning his conquest of the mess hall, when a sudden movement caught his eye.

Shepard had dropped to her stomach, sniper rifle in hand. Jenkins looked around, bewildered. The coast was completely clear, and he was itching to get a move on. The realisation of what was happening to Eden Prime, his home, had just started to sink in. Now, he really wanted to go – _full badass_ – and nuke the bastards who had done – _whatever it is they do_ – to his friends. Just like the vids he had seen of the Spectres! Impatiently, he tensed. Suddenly, the commander held up a fist, then three fingers. In the periphery, he saw the LT nod.

_This is it! Sayonara, fuckers! _

He dashed out from cover, rifle firing wildly in the direction Shepard had been looking. Almost instantly, his shields flashed and his body jerked violently before he was airborne. _Wow, AWESOME! A biotic lift! _Looking down, his expression turned confused. His armour was shredded, his stomach covered in blood, and he could see his intestines sloshing about in their newfound freedom. In horror, he looked frantically at the man who had been his mentor and brother since he enlisted.

"Richard! N–" was the last thing he heard before the world went black.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Kaidan let out a guttural cry, gaping in a panic as Jenkins was brutally cut down in front of him. _Why didn't I stop him?_ It seemed like time had frozen, and he was barely aware that Shepard had opened fire.

"Alenko!" she barked. "Lieutenant!" Out of the blue, he felt a cuff on the back of his head. "Stay frosty!" Shepard snarled, before hurling a throw at the last rocket drone. The immediate threat taken care of, she rounded on him. "What _the fuck_ was that? I need you here and now, Lieutenant, or I will hang your ass out to dry for desertion!"

"I – y-yes ma'am" he stammered. _Stupid, Alenko, stupid. What are you, some FNG? She's fuming now and has every right to be_. Getting to his feet, he stumbled over to where Jenkins lay. Removing the boy's helmet, he bent over, desperately listening for breath sounds while feeling for a pulse. Finding no signs of life, he frantically grabbed at the armour, ripping off his chest piece. _Need to start CPR. C'mon kiddo, you've been through worse_. His vigorous pumping was stilled by a firm hand on his shoulder. Slumping, he ran a hand over Jenkins' lifeless face. "You dumb, idealistic kid…"

His lament was interrupted by Shepard crouching opposite him and ducking her head so her eyes met his. Her voice was soft, her words gentle yet firm. "He will get a proper burial, Kaidan. You have my word. But I need you to focus. I'm not securing the beacon on my own."

_This is out of character… wait, she knows my name?_ Shaking his head and reaching out to sweep Jenkins' wide eyes closed, he nodded and stood. _I'll be back for you, kiddo. No one gets left behind_.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard was livid. The situation had gone from piss-shit to FUBAR in seconds. Almost immediately after they had landed, they were greeted by the macabre sight of bodies strewn about like rag dolls. The scene was disturbing, even to her. Heads were twisted at unnatural angles, limbs scattered with no clue as to their original owners. Some corpses were blackened and charred, while others were slashed to shreds, their armour sinking into the cuts from the force of the blows. All had been shot repeatedly, their now-clotted blood turning the grass a rancorous shade of crimson. Flies, nauseatingly attracted to the scent of death, flittered around happily like children at a theme park.

One man on the periphery of the carnage, quite possibly the last one to have died, seemed to have borne the brunt of the attacker's rage. His left knee had been viscously kicked backwards, shattering it and leaving his leg dangling like a limp string of spaghetti. What unsettled Shepard more, however, was a little further north. His armour had been slashed down the middle and ripped asunder. Fucking bastards had used their knives – or whatever the weapon was – to gouge a hole in the soldier's abdomen, avoiding major blood vessels almost intentionally. His intestines, still coated in slime and blood, trailed from the cavity up to his neck, which they were wound around forcefully. His face and lips were cyanosed, his eyes – make that _eye_ – was wide open, unseeing and glassy. Where the other globe should have been was a gaping wound, scratch marks indicating it had been gouged out with force. She had waved Alenko and Jenkins off before they could see what she had seen. The kid was too green for this to become his enduring memory of his home world.

As if that was not enough, Jenkins was now dead. The kid had been a fucking cretin, but he was _**her**_ fucking cretin. She should have known better than to trust he would understand her signals – no matter how hard his drill instructor might have kicked them into him. Alenko might as well be dead; she was concerned not that he might be of little help for the remainder of the mission, but that he might become a liability. He was visibly distracted, even following her dressing-down and attempts to calm him. Vaguely, she wondered how she would deal with him if he did not pull it together. Shooting him would be the quickest solution but – _goddamnit Shepard he's you're fucking crew! What the fuck is wrong with you?_

Slapping her helmet, she turned her full attention at the clearing ahead, chuckling to herself when she heard the roar of gunfire rushing towards her. _About bloody time. Come and get some, fuckers_.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Ashley Williams felt like every muscle in her body was about to give out as she sprinted up the hill leading towards the woods. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, each of which felt like she was breathing fire. She could scarcely remember a time when she had been this exhausted. She willed her chest to expand, even as her wearied inter-costals groaned in recalcitrant submission. The sensation terrified her – she felt like she was suffocating, which only made her hyperventilate more, empowering the vicious cycle. _So tired… if I could just… suck it up, marine! You wanted to see combat, well here it is. Just a few klicks to the woods, then you can snipe at the little bastards_.

The synthetics were catching up – she could hear them – and their shots were painting the ground all around her. She needed to catch her breath if she had any chance of making it to the woods. Gritting her teeth, she clutched her rifle close to her chest before skidding into cover behind a rock face and shooting blindly to halt her enemies' advance. _Thank you Lord for conveniently-placed rocks_. She smirked, only half kidding. _Father Pedro would have given you three Hail Marys for that one_. Father Pedro. Those shits had killed the priest without so much as a backward glance, continuing to relentlessly slaughter the scores of civilians – women and children – that they, _no I_, had failed to defend back at the church. She shuddered, remembering how their position had been overrun, how Bhatia, the LT and everyone else had died just an arm's length away. _And you ran like the coward you were born as_. With a bitter roar, she lunged around, sending a torrent of bullets flying at the machine flashlight freak _things_.

"STAY DOWN!" A woman's voice bellowed. Ashley blinked. She thought everyone was dead. Ducking back down, she tried to pinpoint the source of the yell, but her attention was drawn by a blue blur that seemed to blaze past her. _Damnit Williams, focus! You're fucking hearing things now?_

"Chief, you ok?" This time a male voice, right next to her. She started and turned, almost crying with relief when she saw an unfamiliar lieutenant crouched next to her.

"F-fine sir."

"Stay put. We'll be back for you" With that, he was gone, sprinting to catch up to whatever it was that had thundered by just seconds ago. Ashley sighed, emotions threatening to overwhelm her. By her estimates, there were at least half a dozen of those things chasing her. She hoped the LT knew what he was in for. _Pathetic, marine! Get your ass up and get in the fight! _Reloading her rifle and hearing no gunfire, she took a deep breath, before she swung out and charged.

Right into a superior officer.


	7. Chapter 7: A Vision of Things to Come

**A/N: there's a section in this chapter which vaguely describes the torture of a child. I wrote it to expand on a character, not because I particularly wanted to. If you don't want to read it, skip the second section. You've been warned! Oh, and… Shepard's language gets even more colourful this chapter… if that's even possible.**

**As usual, thank you to everyone who has reviewed/alerted etc. It helps every time I decide I'm going to hold off writing a new chapter (so pretty much every day…) :) **

**Also… headed to NYC for the long weekend, so there *may* not be any updates till Tuesday… depending on how productive I am on the 4-hr bus ride there. If I do update, it will probably be short(er).**

* * *

Shepard cocked an eyebrow in amusement as the soldier came thundering out of cover with a roar, headed straight for her. With a languid flick of her wrist, the chief's relentless advance was halted as she was suspended in mid-air by a stasis field.

"Alenko! Cover the path. I want to know if any more of those damned fuckers are coming _before_ they decide to attack, clear?"

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

Raising her face plate, she peered at the hapless soldier in front of her. Her face plate had been detached intentionally, and Shepard presumed the Mantis sniper rifle with a cheesy custom paint job secured to her back might have had something to do with it. The soldier looked mighty confused… her expression, coupled with her aggressive stance was almost comical. With a shrug and a soft, throaty chuckle, Shepard let the stasis field fall away, although she did not take much care to ensure the fall would be gentle. Without a word, she hauled the soldier to her feet by her shoulder fastenings. Satisfied that the chief was not about to imminently bowl over, she folded her arms, leant back on one leg and tilted her head, scrutinizing the other woman intently.

To the soldier's credit, she fell in instantly, snapping off a smart salute as if nothing had happened. "Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams of the 212, ma'am." Shepard's eyes narrowed instantly, and she straightened, her faint smirk disappearing.

"The 212? We caught a mayday call from Lieutenant Stone reque –"

"Our transmission was received? But why didn't anyone respond? Why didn't you send –" the chief's entire body language transformed in an instant. Gone was the rigid symmetry, the calmly held gaze, the salute. Instead her entire face contorted in fury, she lunged forward, eyes wild and arms outreached as if to grab Shepard and physically shake her. Her onslaught was stopped when she was suddenly flung back against the rock she had cowered behind only seconds ago, writhing in a stubborn, futile attempt to struggle free.

"_**Marine**_, if you _**ever**_ even _**think**_ about pulling a stunt like that again, I won't just gouge out your eyes and finger fuck your skull, I will shit all over you so hard your dear sweet mother won't recognise your putrefied remains. _**Am I clear**_?"

The chief blinked, staring wide-eyed at the savage face that had parked itself within spitting distance. Collecting herself, she nodded, stopping her squirming. Content that her message had gotten through, Shepard stepped back and released her, this time lowering her gently to the ground. Fixing her with a withering look, she folded her arms and waited for the other woman to gather herself and straighten.

"That said… you've got spunk, Williams." Her eyes softened a bit and a lop-sided smirk appeared. "I like spunk."

Williams coughed; surprised at the 360 the commander's attitude towards her had pulled. "Uh, thanks, Commander…?"

"Shepard. The lieutenant over there," she jerked her head in Kaidan's direction, "is Alenko. Now, if you're about done with your little hissy fit, maybe you could tell me what the fuck is going on here."

Glowering, Ashley stood even straighter, if that was possible. "It was the synthetics, ma'am," she said curtly. "They appeared out of nowhere, overwhelmed our garrison. We fell back to the church to defend the civvies, but… my entire unit was wiped out. The machines must be here for the goddamn thing they found at the dig site, ma'am. It's not far from here. Just over the ridge."

"They're Geth," Shepard said simply, ignoring the stupefied expression which crossed Ashley's face. "We need to get to the beacon. You're with us… if your shooting is as hot as your temper."

"Hotter, ma'am."

"Scorching." Shepard half-smiled, inwardly groaning at her terrible attempt at levity. "Follow my lead and check your fire unless I say so. And if I so much as smell a stray shot from you, Williams, I will deck you so hard you'll be shitting teeth for years to come."

"Aye, aye, ma'am." _Finally, a chance to hand it to those sheepfuckers_, Williams thought. _If the commander's money is where her mouth is, overgrown robots don't stand a fucking chance_.

* * *

Saren contemplated the cowering forms in front of him disparagingly. _Humans_, he spat. _So caught up in their own hubris. Rudimentary creatures of blood and flesh_. He ran a talon along the cheek of a whimpering child, harshly enough to draw blood, before turning his withering gaze to the mother who had thrown herself between them. _Child,_ he thought, talon still digging into the supple cheek. _Bid your innocence farewell_._ You will never be safe, never be a child again_.

_These ones need not suffer_.

_The humans are nothing but a genetic aberration. A blight, floundering for dominion which would doom you to oblivion. Show them darkness, that their dawn may wither and never be rediscovered. Rent the hope from their hearts, afflict their minds till despair and torment create a hell out of every living thought_.

_These thoughts… they are not – they are my own. I will. I must_.

With a growl, Saren lashed out against the child's protector, his talons slashed through her face. Instantly, rivers of blood meandered indolently down her neck with an almost idle disregard for the brutality through which their springs had been fashioned. She glared defiantly up at him, trembling lips refusing to part, body shielding her child from the evil which had beset them.

"You _**will**_ scream, and then you will beg for a death which will not come!" Saren snarled, flinging her aside and bearing down on the child. Pulling his hands around his back as if to handcuff him, Saren hauled him off the floor by his wrists, relishing in the tears and howls of agony which followed. Mandibles twitching wickedly, he stalked over to the supine human, stamping down on her chest just hard enough to make breathing possible but agonising. Never taking his eyes off the horrified mother, he slipped a talon under one of the child's nails and began to wrench upwards.

* * *

Powell screwed his eyes shut and recoiled as those ungodly shrieks assailed him. He was sweating profusely, and was terrified that the turian or one of the machines would hear his wildly beating heart and find him. As he hugged the crates, his knuckles whitened from the force with which he gripped his stolen grenade. In truth, he did not know what he would do if he was found. Yes he knew that he had to throw it, but how did the damn thing activate? There were so many buttons that he was sure he would press the one which would cause it to blow up instantly – and him along with it. _Get a grip, Powell. Stay hidden, don't attempt to be a hero and no one will find you_.

Finally, after what seemed like aeons, the screaming stopped. Powell held his breath, not wanting to risk detection over the eerie silence which now swarmed over the docks. Chancing an eye open, he leaned towards a crack between the crates where he was hiding. He could see him now, the turian. Christoph had always gone on about the books he read; Powell imagined this must be what Frankenstein had looked like. He could not even be sure that the turian was not another one of those machines built to look like an overgrown pheasant. The back of his head was littered with cybernetic ports; his left arm looked exactly like the arms on those hopper _things_ he had seen scampering around. From the front, tubes ran in and out of the armour on the left side of his chest; Powell shuddered to think what they might contain.

Out of the blue, a voice punctured the silence.

"Saren." He recognised the voice as turian – he damn well should, given the number of times he had used the flanging effects of his DJ set to mimic one.

The bastard whirled. _Saren. That's a name I'll never forget_.

"Nihlus." The response was so cold it sent a shiver up Powell's spine.

He watched in muted horror at the scene which played out before him. The one called Nihlus evidently trusted Saren – he started to confide in him, turned his back as he talked.

Powell clapped a hand over his mouth as Saren raised his gun.

* * *

_Fucking hell, Wizard of Oz, puppet master or however the hell you want to be addressed, can't you fucking give me a break? Just for once let a damn package be where it should be? Or give me a partner who actually answers his asswipe comm?_ Shepard was muttering all manner of profanity under her breath as they headed to the research base. The dig site had, predictably, been a no-go, and she already had her next shore leave riding on the beacon having been whisked off world hours ago. _At least Alenko's got his shit together_. Seeing someone hurting had obviously triggered some sort of switch in the LT, and he was moving with proficient ease, watching their flank while shooting concerned looks at the chief when he thought no one was looking. Little ever escaped Shepard though, and she noted his furtive glances with mild amusement.

She signalled to them to slow as they neared the brow of the hill. She hated hills, always had. Not a single one of her memories involving them was fond – either the one of Ellison, her drill instructor, yelling her hairs off as she sprinted up them; or the look of terror on her examiner's face when she had floored the pedal in her "hill start" component of the sky car licensing test. This was no different. They were completely exposed and blind as to what may lie beyond. Dropping into a crouch, she motioned to her squad to advance slowly, sticking to the sides of the path.

As the clearing came into view, she tensed. Bodies were strewn around in much the same fashion as the scene they encountered on landing. However, here the shit-eating dogs had decided to go a step further. Dozens of large metal spikes rose out of the ground; impaled upon them were the bodies of fallen marines and colonists. Their innards trailed along the length of the metal that had speared them, giving it a sickly glow in the mid-afternoon sun.

"Sweet mother of…" Kaidan breathed.

Without warning, the spikes started to retract, lowering the bodies that had been strung upon them. Kaidan moved to rush to the aid of the fallen humans, but was stopped by Shepard's firm grasp on his bicep. Watching warily, she relaxed slightly as no explosions appeared forthcoming. Activating her omni-tool, she started to sweep for trip mines, but paused as a flicker of motion caught her eye. One of the colonists was… _the fuck… is he moving?_

"They're alive!" Kaidan grabbed some medigel from his belt and started forward, but was again stopped by Shepard's tightening grip. "We have to help them!"

Shepard silenced his protest with a glare, before turning her watchful eyes back on the colonist – _colonists_. All of them were moving now, staggering to their feet. Their faces were ashen and drawn, and it looked like they had been bound with some kind of metal tubing. Something was not right, but she could not quite put her finger on it.

"This is Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy. Stay where you are. We're here to help but need to secure the area first." Her only response was a low moan, before the entire group started staggering towards them.

"I said stay where you are!" She cursed under her breath, raising her weapon. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ashley do the same, although Kaidan had kept his fixed to the ground ahead of them. "This is your last warning. Hold your position or we _will_ open fire!" As she barked the order, she reached over and roughly slapped Kaidan's aim upwards.

The colonists broke into a lumbering canter, gaining speed as they rushed towards the marines. As they neared, Shepard realised that they were not bound by the tubes; they had been _implanted_ with them. She only decided they were no longer human, however, when she saw their eyes, the irises of which had gained a strange metallic glow. No living thing stared with such unseeing eyes.

"Mother of all Mongolian clusterfucks… open fire!" Gritting her teeth, she squeezed the trigger, hearing Ashley's rifle burst to life a second later. "Goddamnit Alenko, _**that's a fucking order**_! Shoot your damn gun or I will shove it up your ass and squeeze the donkeyfucking trigger myself!"

The… – _husks _– were relentless, the leader barely slowed despite the clip she had unloaded into its chest. Cursing, she shipped her assault rifle and disappeared in a flash of blue, zipping towards the nearest husk. She slammed into it with teeth-shattering force, its metallic spine groaning and twisting backwards. Aware of the other dozen or so surrounding her, she leapt into the air, giving herself a second to gather her energy before she landed fist-first into the centre of the pack.

The force sent them tumbling backwards, but she did not pause. In an instant, she was next to one of them, fist wreathed in blue as she drew her arm back before slamming it into the husk's abdomen. There was a satisfying squelch as flesh was broken, but she continued her punch upwards until her fingers pierced the diaphragm and wrapped around the beast's heart. _Or what remains of it_, she thought bitterly as she yanked it out of its chest. The husk collapsed, and she felt another one jump onto her back. With a roar, she reached up, grabbing hold of its head and wrenching as she twisted her own body. The husk's neck snapped, its body flopping over her shoulder as she flung it to the ground.

Seeing the other husks converging on her firing squad mates, she flung a singularity at them, before charging at the floating bodies. "Alenko! Barrier!" she roared, as she slammed into the singularity, detonating it and sending dismembered limbs flying in all directions. Pausing only to whirl around, her eyes narrowed as she saw a group of the things smashing against the window of a pre-fab. _What the… are those civvies in there?_ _Fuck!_ She extended her arm before jerking her forearm backwards at the elbow.

"Tango with someone who knows how to dance, you devil cock sons of donkeys!" The husks were flat on their backs from the force of her pull. Before they could stand, she was next to them, shotgun in hand. Four fell in quick succession, before her leg lanced through another in a biotically-charged kick as her hands reloaded. Pivoting around, said husk still impaled on her foot, she concentrated and flicked her knee out, turning the limp form into a deadly projectile which swiftly broke the backs of three husks lumbering towards her. Dropping to the ground, she narrowly-avoided a swinging fist.

"Nice try, motherfucker." Owner of said fist collapsed to the ground – or rather, its legs did, torso having been blown apart by the close-range shotgun blast. Not bothering to get to her feet, she took out the remaining husks, before flopping back onto the ground.

"Fuck… ma'am." Ashley was standing over her, face an expression of pure awe.

"Hmph. Get in line, Williams," Shepard replied, before reluctantly taking the pro-offered hand and getting to her feet. Dusting herself off, she gestured to the pre-fab. "Some civvies were in there. Go check on them, then seal the doors till backup arrives."

Turning, she opened a comm link. "Shore party to Normandy, do you read?"

"Loud and clear, shore party," came the voice she recognised as the pilot's.

"Captain there?"

"Yes, Shepard. Fill me in."

"Situation looks bad, sir. The Geth are here in force. The beacon's been moved, either to the docks or spaceport. Nihlus should be there by now but I haven't been able to raise him on his comm. We're en-route but something's hinky as shit, sir." She paused, wondering how to describe what they had seen. "Be advised, we'll need some ground-side recovery crews as well… R&D and Intel will probably want to see what we've encountered. The Geth seem to have developed a means of… mechanising organics."

"What do you mean – mechanising?" Anderson's voice sounded troubled.

"Hard to describe, sir. Let's just say you're gonna have to see it to believe it. Kinda like rats ejaculating."

A snort, then "OK, Shepard. Continue to the beacon. It's your top priority."

"Roger that, sir. Ground team out."

* * *

Kaidan was shaken. In the 10 years he had been in the Alliance, he had had to do his fair share of dirty work. Hell, earlier _today_ he had undressed a dead marine, rolling his body around like it was a ball, to take scans of his injuries. But never had he had to open fire on civilians. That _was_ what they were, right? Civilians? Just sick and needing treatment?

_We're both biotics_, he thought angrily. _Perfectly capable of CCing a couple of dozen sick humans_.

_Yeah? So why didn't you do so? Why'd you let Shepard take them out so brutally?_

"You ok, LT?" He started, looking up from where he'd slumped to the ground, leaned against some crates. Shepard was standing over him, arms folded, green eyes boring into him from behind her face plate.

"Yes ma'am. I just –" he took a deep breath. _She saved your life, you damned fool. If she hadn't taken care of every single one of them for you, you'd be lying against this rock ripped to shreds_. "Ma'am, about just now, I'm sor –"

"No need, Kaidan. You're a good man, believe it or not, I understand that."

He blinked – _that_, he had not expected. He coughed. "Uh, thanks, ma'am. I was expecting… well, after the dressing-down you gave Williams earlier…"

Unbeknownst to him, Shepard smirked behind her faceplate. She reached out a hand, and he accepted it. "I've been known to let things slide on occasion, LT." Slapping his shoulder, she walked towards Ashley, who was securing the door to the pre-fab. He felt his heart slow, and he breathed a sigh of relief. _Well that went better than expected…._ His breath caught as she stopped and half-turned.

"But… if you ever disobey a direct order again, I swear to God, I'll make a pancake out of the skin off your dick and make you eat the damn thing."

* * *

They moved towards the docks in silence, but with an efficiency and understanding borne of years of intense training. Shepard had point, while Alenko and Williams covered their left and right flanks respectively. As they swept the area, Shepard could feel her fury reach heights she could scarcely remember. A savage hurricane had tornadoed through the docks, leaving soldiers, civilians and _children_ mutilated in its wake. The silence was haunting, the ghosts of innocence lost lingering and lustful for vengeance. One body in particular gave her pause, and she stopped abruptly, crouching down beside it.

"Commander?" Ashley enquired, before looking over at Kaidan's sharp intake of breath.

"It's Nihlus. He was… part of our team."

"Sorry to hear that, sir."

Shepard examined the body gingerly, turning the head which was now caked in dried blue blood. Nihlus' helmet had been removed – _someone he trusted?_ – and he had been shot at close range. From the damage that had been done, it had to have been the handiwork of a hand cannon. His crest horns had been wrenched off by the impact, and the heat had caused his brains – _what's left of them_ – to melt within his skull. The shot had exited through his left eye; the now-deflated globe floating around in macabre fashion in the brain juice. _Some fucker beat me to it. I'm going to beat the shit out of him then shove his balls down his throat_.

Sighing, she stood, before something caught her attention. She stiffened, motioning for the others to be silent. _There it is again_. With a snarl, the crates off to her left went flying, before the unfortunate soul who had been hiding behind them found himself pinned against a wall, pistol to his temple.

"P-please don't shoot!" he shrieked.

Shepard winced at the high pitched squeal. "Keep it down, you stupid fuck." Releasing him, she took a step back, but kept her pistol pointed loosely in his direction. "Did you see what happened here?"

"Y-yes. T-the turian. He was s-shot by another."

"Well, obviously."

"N-no! A-another t-turian!"

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "Say that again."

"A-another t-turian. H-he c-called him S-saren."

"And I suppose you just conveniently saw all this carnage while remaining fortuitously hidden?" Shepard was already pissed – this whimpering fool was not doing anything to help her temper. It was one thing to survive, but this guy smelt like a piece of cowardly criminal scum – and she knew that stench well. "Forget it. Do you know where this Saren went?"

"H-he and the m-machines h-had the b-beacon. T-they took the t-tram."

"Then that's where we're headed. Stay out of sight, not that I imagine that's going to be much of a problem for you."

* * *

_Really, all-powerful celestial fuckman? A fucking bomb? How the fuck do you dream up this shit? What are you, some bored overgrown child with too many fucking blank datapads?_ She cursed as she flicked her wrist, yanking off the metal guarding the trigger mechanism. Over to her left, Williams was firing madly, pausing only to reload. Alenko was doing an admirable job of keeping the synthetic monkeyfuckers easy targets, while also keeping the weapons of those in cover overheated. However, there were just too many of the little suckers.

"Ma'am we can't hold!"

_Fuck_, she thought as she stared down at the mass of wires in front of her. White, red, yellow, green, blue, black even fucking _**pink **_was represented. _Stargodchild, you motherfucking jackass, I swear, if we ever meet, I'm going to make you piss on an active omni-tool and watch you fry from penis up. Fucking pink? Too many fucking wires… too many permutations to work one which one to cut before the fucking timer runs out_.

Changing tack, she gingerly examined the charge. _Probably enough explosives here to decimate the colony. Fuck_. _Only one thing you can do, Shep_.

She eyed the timer. _58 seconds_.

"Williams! Alenko! Bomb is clear. Get your asses to the beacon, double-time!"

"But ma'am! The Geth!"

"What did I say about fucking orders Alenko? Move your ass or I will throw it into the next millennium myself!" With that, she vanished, charging into the pack of Geth that had been blocking their advance. One shotgun clip was emptied mid-charge, and by the time she had slammed into the hapless machines, another one was primed, neutering another four in a gush of white goo. Immediately ducking to avoid the incoming gunfire, she flicked her wrist, sending more Geth hurling over the rails. The next instant, she was on her feet, arms wreathed in blue as she snatched the two nearest machines by the necks, crushing their necks with the force of her grip. Without pause, she ducked into a roll, flinging the bodies in quick succession as she did so. The moment she was behind cover, she hurled a throw at the still-airborne bodies, knocking the remaining Geth out of hiding before rounding the corner and emptying an entire assault rifle clip into them.

Without pausing to appreciate the chiming of synthetic bodies dropping to the ground, she whirled. Satisfied when she saw Alenko and Williams in the distance, poised to storm the last holdout guarding the beacon, she rushed back to the bomb. _19 seconds… getting sloppy, Shepard_.

Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind, gathering her energy. Hefting the bomb in her hand, she focused, creating a barrier around it. Her hand alight in blue fire, she hurled the bomb up and away from the colony. Those 19 seconds felt like 19 hours as she held the bomb suspended, concentrating on the barrier surrounding it. Then, suddenly her mind was aflame. She grit her teeth in a snarl, fists clenched and arms extended as she pushed against the expanding force which threatened to burst open her skull. She was vaguely aware of a burning sensation as her amp fizzed along the back of her head. She was panting and sweating profusely now, unsure of how much longer she could hold out. Her heart was thundering in her chest, and her every muscle was in spasm. She fell to one knee, then the other, unable to divert any more energy from containing the blast.

Suddenly, she felt a rush of energy coming towards her. _Ah shit, Shepard. Fucking bright idea that was, you've just fucked over an entire world_. She raised her hands weakly, trying to contain it, but it hit her square in the chest, driving all the air from her lungs. She felt herself rise into the air, and was almost ethereally aware of being slammed into the wall behind her. _Trust the fucking pain not to be surreal_, she thought as she took a ragged breath, the oxygen bringing the world back into focus with startling clarity.

She shook her head, trying to clear the remaining fog, but the action nearly made her cry out in agony. _Shit, you've really done it this time, haven't you. Hold still, you wise-ass fuck_. Taking slow, shallow breaths so as not to exacerbate any injuries, she looked around. The first thing she noted made her sigh with relief. The spaceport – and the surrounding colony – appeared completely intact, although she blinked in surprise when she saw herself holding fragments of the bomb. _Must've had to sub-consciously choose between maintaining the barrier and keeping it suspended in the air._

Still lying against the wall, she noticed her HUD flashing wildly, helpfully informing her that her hardsuit had been compromised. _Well thanks, you useless piece of shit_. _Next time, at least have the courtesy of giving me my first aid before you bug out._ Eyeing what remained of it, she noted that most of the upper half of the suit, together with the armguards, had been burnt away. What plastic remained had fused to her skin. _Well that's gonna be a right ray of sunshine to get off…._

She closed her eyes, mentally assessing the damage. She was keenly aware of a flail segment in her chest – _that's at least three ribs in series fractured in at least two different places_. The flail segment she could do nothing about, but it required urgent attention. She tried to move her left arm, but the lancing pain which resulted made her grimace and bite down hard on her tongue. Shifting her gaze gingerly without moving her head, she stared with mild amusement at her shattered, dislocated shoulder. _Well that's a new one…._ There was no point trying to relocate it – without a bony head to fit into its socket, it would merely fall out again. Her left hand was a mess of tendons and bone – at least two fingers were pointing in the wrong direction. Her right, at least, seemed fairly unscathed, although every muscle ached. The rest of her seemed relatively ok, although she was concerned about a sharp pain in her left leg and hip.

Cautiously, she reached for her belt, feeling for her medigel. Finding it, she brought the packet to her teeth, unsnapping it. She groaned as she lathered the gel over her shoulder and chest, numbing some of the pain. _Gotta get up, Shepard…_. Gritting her teeth, she shifted upwards, ignoring the searing pain the movement brought. Her head swam, and she felt herself about to fall back down before someone slid in next to her, gently supporting her back.

"Commander!" Ashley's face was an expression of pure horror.

Shepard snorted. "Looks can be deceiving, Williams. I'm fine."

"Uh, no offense ma'am, but if you really did just do what I think you did, I'm not buying it."

Fixing her with a glower, she changed the subject. "What of the beacon?"

"It's fine, ma'am. Lt Alenko is securing it for transport."

"Good. Let's get over there."

"Ma'am, at least let me fix the awful first-aid job you've done first."

Shepard glared at her, but said nothing. In truth, she knew she would not make it more than a few steps without decent field treatment. With a scowl, she leaned back against the wall, letting Ashley get to work. She raised her eyebrows in surprise when Ashley reached for her neck. She had not realised she had been bleeding from there. The amount of blood on Ashley's hands concerned both women, though Shepard would not admit it. After a few minutes, Ashley had done all she could, Shepard sighing softly as she felt the pain die down a bit.

"Now can we do our fucking jobs, Gunnery Chief?"

"Is that an order, ma'am?" Ashley teased.

"Shut up and get the fuck out of my personal space." Ashley laughed, standing and helping the commander to her feet. Shepard winced as she placed her weight on her left leg. _Not outright broken, but definitely a stress fracture in there somewhere…_. Together, they made their way towards the beacon, where Alenko was… _WHAT THE FUCK?_

Suddenly, the beacon started glowing in a nauseatingly green colour, pulling Kaidan in towards it. He struggled, his expression one of fear and pain combined. Shaking Ashley aside roughly, and firmly ignoring the agony tearing through her body, Shepard drew on her last reserves of energy, disappearing in a flash and crashing into Kaidan, shoving him out of the way of the beam.

Then, all Shepard became aware of was the pain. It bore through her, setting every nerve on fire. Her limbs were wrenched outwards and backwards, while the beacon pulled her body inwards. The arching of her back was killing her broken ribs, and she mentally forced herself to stop breathing to keep from passing out from the pain.

Abruptly, the pain became secondary as images were scorched into her mind, glimpses of a reality she did not recognise.

_I cower, howling, my dead child in my arms._

_His eyes fly open; my heart skips a beat. Before I can speak, a bone-chilling, unnatural moan escapes his lips._

_I cannot move, cannot breathe as I stare at my child. My beautiful child. He reaches for my face, I long for his gentle caress. I close my eyes. "Ssshhh.. mummy's here. I'll alwa–"_

_The breath catches in my throat as my face burns. My heart aches so badly. _

_I fall to the ground, my eyes no longer seeing._

_The reflection in my eyes; do you see it? The burning, the screeching of metal as my world collapses._

_Ah, the sky. The sweet blue sky. No – no – don't take it from me._

_Darkness as the black hand of death descends upon me._

_My world is burning. _

_Your world will burn too._


	8. Chapter 8: The Forgotten Victims

**A/N: hello from the Big Apple! So the bus journey was semi-productive after-all… warning of allusion to child abuse in the second last section.  
**

* * *

Do you know what it is like to be incarcerated in your own mind? Come hither, let me show you.

Night surrounds me, its stifling embrace encompassing my every being. I inhale, gasping, desperate for the scent of fresh morning dew. It is so tantalisingly close, yet all which surges past my desiccated nostrils is the same stale odour which has been my unwelcome companion for perpetuity. It is the smothering of an ever-increasing fraction of my own expired breath, the stench of halitosis exacerbated by the dwindling supply of oxygen. The bacteria which swarm over my tongue relish in the smell; I can almost feel them multiplying, their noxious excrement conflagrating my ulcerated throat. As my face reflexively twists into a grimace, I feel my lips crack; the sharp sting is a welcome sensation over the utter oblivion that is my person. I run my calloused tongue over my mouth, but the saliva has long run-dry.

My neck aches, as do my back, my feet. Unconsciously, I move to shift from my half-bent position, before I realise that I cannot. My cage besets me, thousands of hideous, razor-sharp, rusted nails brushing against my scarred, lacerated skin. I cannot remember how long I have been trapped in this pose, my knees semi-flexed, my hips bent, one arm extended backwards while the other twists outward and forwards. My neck is craned and extended; my fatigued muscles must recalcitrantly hold. I cannot rest, cannot sleep; the nails, coated with tetanus toxin, make sure of that. So I hold my weary eyes open, transfixed on that one spot which is my window to my mind and the world.

Vision. The quality our people are most known and cherished for; the unappreciated power to see life and love in all its iridescent vibrancy. The contours of your face, the eagerness in your sapphire eyes, the exuberance of your untamed youth; these are all lost to me now. The world is unfocussed, as if I am seeing only with the peripheries of my eyesight. Colour has little significance – it is all desaturated, shades of grey on a backdrop of a charcoal canvas. I can make out arms which I recognise as my own moving towards my lips as I cough and speak to the one I thought I could save. His silhouette is waist-high; he must be sitting.

I hear a voice, somehow I know it originates from the vessel which is my prison. The sound is muffled, the words little more than a drone. There is something about the tone, though. Its utter anaesthetised malevolence is entirely alien to me. My heart yearns for its lost serenity, its balming wisdom.

All of a sudden, it is no longer a toil to hold my eyes open. They widen of their own accord, and I lunge against the steadfast walls of my cell, oblivious to the nails which skewer me. I strain my eyes, prickle my ears as the context of the word which has prompted this escapes my senses yet again. _Liara_. A grey oval with jagged edges encompasses my vision; his spit lands with aching numbness on my face. That cursed muffling! The physical pain I am in pales in comparison to the wrenching of my heart as I make out drabs of the conversation.

"Help us…"

"Die."

_Oh my Little Wing._ I am clawing at my cell now, nails broken and bleeding, willing the body that was once mine to lash out against the evil which threatens the light of my life. Despite all my will, all my power, my attempts are futile. The best I have managed is a miniscule flinch.

I sag to the ground, embracing the tearing of my flesh which I hope will engulf the pain in my chest. Memories of a distant past flood my mind. A crisp, spring breeze caresses my face, flower petals brush against my hand, soft, freshly-cut grass underfoot. My right arm is tugged insistently, my little wonder excitedly dragging me along. I laugh, a sound which now sounds so far away, worried that our canter will spoil my sunglow dress.

Resolutely, I stand, defying the pangs which rack every fibre of my being. Now, I remember how I came to be imprisoned, how I threw myself in here and buried the key within myself.

_I will fight for you, Little Wing. I am coming._

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Karin Chakwas glanced up at the sound of looming chaos, sighing inwardly at the sight which greeted her when the med bay doors opened. Two lance corporals she vaguely recognised as the Normandy's combat medics were bearing down on her, gurney in tow. One of them was supporting the jaw of the woman who lay atop it, in an attempt to keep her airway patent. Hot on their heels was Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, worry etched into his face as he regarded the unconscious figure. At his side was an unfamiliar soldier, her rank insignia making her out to be a gunnery chief. Her face was coated in sweat and grime, her dark hair pulled into a practical but elegant bun. Her armour was splattered in blood, and she looked dazed as she trailed the trolley. Mentally assessing her gait and her appearance, Chakwas decided the blood could not have been hers – there was simply too much of it for her to be up and about as she was.

Standing, she turned her full attention to the supine figure who was now being transferred to the operating table, the privates inserting cannulae, taking blood samples and attaching monitoring leads. She recognised the face as that of the XO, Commander Shepard. She had heard many stories about her, most of them terrifying, none of them dignified. _And probably mostly untrue, knowing the nature of scuttlebutt_. With one glance, she knew the commander would require invasive management. Turning, she headed towards the sanitizers to begin scrubbing. As she did so, she dismissed Alenko and the chief with a nod at the door, her expression kind but firm.

Seeing them leave, albeit reluctantly, she reached for the chlorhexidine and began to wash. Instinctively, her hands passed over each other; no crease left untreated. Focusing on the commander as she continued her repetitive motions, she began her assessment. The woman was ashen, her breathing rapid but shallow. She had evidently lost a lot of blood, and from what had been spattered over the chief's hardsuit, a punctured artery was the most likely culprit. Trailing her gaze further south, she noted the commander's flail chest. That was the top priority, she decided. Not only was the flail segment preventing Shepard's left chest from expanding, it posed the greatest risk to her life. Should the commander bleed into the space surrounding her lungs, the pressure generated would be enormous – her lungs would not be able to expand and, coupled with the shock her body had already endured, she would most likely die. Her other immediately obvious injuries, the burns, the shattered shoulder, the "hand" and the shrapnel embedded in her skin were serious, but not immediately life-threatening.

Her hands cleaned and dried, she donned a sterile gown and gloves, before calmly addressing one of the combat medics, noting the names stitched to their uniforms.

"Corporal James, would you please take some blood for cross-match, full blood count, electrolytes and clotting studies. Once that is done, start pushing a one litre bag of Hartmann's stat to a target BP of 80 – 90 systolic. While the bag is running, please go and fetch 10 units of O-neg packed red cells, 10 units of fresh frozen plasma and 2 units of platelets. When you return, start the massive transfusion protocol, alternating the packed cells and FFP through the blood warmer as you do so. I want them to keep running until we hit a Hb of 10." Turning to the other man, she continued.

"Corporal Manning, I need you to get a definitive airway using a Carlens ET tube. I am going to need to deflate the left lung while I fix the flail segment; the Carlens will allow us to keep the right ventilated while I operate." Spotting the medigel over the commander's neck, she added, "I suspect her left carotid may have been punctured. The medigel is doing its job for now but with the pressure within the artery, there's no telling how long it will hold. The chest is the first priority, however, so keep an eye, and a hand, if you able, on the wound. If you see even a trickle of blood seep through, have a low threshold for alerting me and slapping on more medigel." She paused to allow the corporals to register their instructions. "All clear?"

"Aye, ma'am," came the reply, the men already gathering the necessary equipment for their assigned tasks. Taking a deep breath, Chakwas reached for the scalpel.

"Alright. Corporal Manning, let me know when the lung is out of the way."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Chakwas stepped back from the operating table with an exhausted sigh. It had taken a gruelling nine or so hours to piece the commander back together – most of that had gone into painstakingly re-joining the ruptured tendons and severed nerves of her left hand. Cutting away the plastic and fabric which had been burned into her skin had not been particularly pleasant either; the commander now lay completely naked, save for a pair of panties, under the protective barrier of the med bay's cellular regenerators.

None of Shepard's injuries had been anything she could not treat. However, she was at a loss as to what was happening now. When she had finished with the surgery, and after ensuring there the commander had enough painkillers on board to numb an elephant, she had stopped the general anaesthetic. She would have expected most patients to start struggling against the endotracheal tube responsible for maintaining the airway within about fifteen minutes. However, two hours had now gone by and Shepard had shown no signs of waking.

Chakwas was initially concerned that the commander had suffered some sort of hypoxic brain damage from the punctured carotid artery – it did, after all, supply nutrients to the front and middle portions of the brain. However, scans of Shepard's brain activity had not showed signs of brain injury; quite the contrary, in fact. The readouts were consistent with alpha and beta wave activity; which was puzzling as that sort of activity was usually only seen in awake subjects. Yet, the commander showed no signs that her brain was even receptive to any sort of environmental stimuli – Chakwas had called her name, shaken her right shoulder, even exerted painful supraorbital pressure without any sort of response whatsoever. Clinically, the commander was in a deep coma, although the scans had suggested it was anything but.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the swooshing of the med bay doors. She glanced up, smiling when she recognised the visitor and his companion.

"Captain Anderson. I was wondering when you'd show up."

"Dr Chakwas," Anderson greeted her, before gesturing to the woman to his left. "This is Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. Her unit was massacred on Eden Prime, and on the back of Lt Alenko's report, I've asked that she be transferred to the Normandy." He paused. "Jenkins…"

Chakwas nodded sadly. Only hours into their deployment, Richard Jenkins had proved himself a popular figure. He had been an affable chap with an infectious enthusiasm for, well, everything. He had bounced around the ship, talking to anyone who allowed themselves to be distracted by his excitement, spinning yarns so long she wondered how he kept track of it all. She had only spoken to him for a few minutes, yet she found herself strangely saddened by his passing. _Such a waste_, she thought dejectedly. _He'd been so desperate to prove himself to the three officers_.

"I know, Captain," was all she could manage. Both cleared their throats simultaneously, trying to divert the conversation to less unpleasant pastures. Fixing her eyes on the tired woman standing beside Anderson, she smiled warmly. "Good to have you abroad, Chief Williams. I am sorry we had to meet under such circumstances, but I am looking forward to spending more time with the crew – yourself included."

"Thank you, ma'am," came the reply, but Williams sounded distracted. Chakwas noted that both her visitors were looking over in the commander's direction, concerned expressions on their faces.

"Physically, the commander is doing well," she assured them.

Anderson glanced up at her, an eyebrow raised. "But…"

"But she's not waking up. I can't for the life of me figure out why. Her brain scans read like she should be awake, and there is no evidence of brain damage." She sighed, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. "All we can do is wait."

Anderson nodded sharply, half-turning. "I have a few calls to make. Let me know –"

"The instant anything changes. You have my word, Captain," Chakwas finished.

Anderson gave her a weary smile, before turning and leaving. Noticing that Williams had not followed his lead, but was instead still eyeing the commander's bed, she put a hand on her shoulder, her face kind. "You look like you deserve some attention yourself, young lady. Come on, have a seat here."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The med bay was dark, the only light coming from the cellular regenerator humming away around Shepard's body. Next to it, Ashley Williams, her left arm in a sling, sat slumped in a chair, head lolling and a trickle of drool dribbling down her cheek. Chakwas had been annoyed to find two untreated gunshot wounds, one in her shoulder and the other in her thigh, as well as multiple ignored lacerations and energy burns. She had spent an hour scolding and patching up the squirming chief, who for some reason had refused any form of sedation.

Now, Chakwas was physically shattered, but her mind was a hive of activity. There was no way she would be able to fall asleep in this state. Something about the commander was gnawing at her. Sighing, she flipped open Shepard's pre-sevice medical records and began to read.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

_New York Presbyterian Childrens' Hospital, 18 August 2154_

Scott Branson was exhausted. It was his thirty-eighth hour on call and the crowed in the waiting room showed no signs of thinning. Raising his cup to his lips, he drained the last of his coffee, grimacing as the bitter taste hit him. He flopped onto the bed, scrubbing a hand over his face and relaxing as his eyes drooped shut.

His eyes flew open as his accursed pager sounded. Sighing, he reached for his belt, silencing it and glancing at the message. _Dr Branson to treatment room 1_. Treatment 1. That meant some poor kid had probably fractured something which needed reducing. Groaning, he hefted himself up, pausing to splash some water over his face and stare at his reflection in the mirror. _25 years old and you look 50. What has medicine done to you?_ Wistfully, he thought of his college friends who were earning five times what he was at the big financial corporations. _Definitely bad career move_. As if sensing his reluctance, his pager sounded again, its message repeating itself. "Alright, alright, hold your horses, I'm coming already," he muttered, as he strode out of the on-call room.

Entering the treatment room, he plastered a smile he truly did not feel like flashing on his face. "Good afternoon, miss. I'm Dr Branson. What can I do for you today?

The woman sat on the bed, a wailing infant cradled in her arms. She looked drained and like she, not her child, was the one in need of medical treatment. Her face was pallid, and her brown eyes had sunk into their orbits. She looked emaciated; eyeing her bony structure, he could imagine that with a few meals, she would have been beautiful. Her hair was… it was then that he noticed she actually had none under the hat she was wearing. Suddenly, he realised that she probably was quite ill.

"Miss?"

The woman said nothing, only moving to unwrap the infant in her arms, silently handing it to him. He looked down, and felt his breath catch in his throat. The baby's entire back was scalded, the wound looking angry and red. Blisters had already started to form; some were oozing angry pus. Turning the baby over, he was struck as she made fleeting eye contact – in that moment, he felt himself transfixed by her dazzling emerald eyes. Shaking his head, he continued his inspection of her body. Her right arm was evidently broken, although he took a small measure of comfort in the fact that the fracture did not appear to be an open one. Noting no other obvious injuries, he cleared his throat, turning towards the mother.

"Uh, miss…?"

"Hannah," came the hoarse, whispered reply.

"Hannah, I need you to tell me exactly how this injury happened." A look – _is that fear?_ – darkened the woman's expressionless face, but it was so brief that he could not be sure. She cleared her throat.

"It all happened so fast… I had to go to the bathroom, I thought I'd pulled down the latch on the door to her play pen… s-she… she was crawling around and playing with her toys when I left her… next thing I know, I'm in the bathroom, then I hear a clatter. I – I thought one of the pots must've just come loose, so I don't worry too much about it. When I'm done, I head back to her, but she's not in her pen." She paused, diverting her eyes to the floor as tears welled in her eyes.

"I was so scared. Suddenly, I heard her crying, and I ran into the kitchen. That's when I saw the kettle on the floor. She must've crawled towards it and done something to make it tip over. I think it fell on her arm. I – I should have been there… I'm so sorry… I should have protected her… it's all my fault…." Her façade well and truly broken, Hannah broke down, sobs racking her body. Scott knelt down beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder, ducking his head to meet her eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Hannah. It was just an accident. These things happen. Listen. I'm going to have to ask you to take a seat on the chair, ok? I need the bed to dress your daughter and set her arm. Here…" Still holding on to the whimpering infant, he gently helped the trembling woman off the bed and into the chair. Setting the infant down, he started gathering dressings and creams needed to treat the burns. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, something was nagging at him, but he could not put his finger on it… he was just too tired to bother trying.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Chakwas set the pad down, an expression of pure fury blackening her face. It was one she seldom wore, and it transformed her entire countenance. _Child abuse deserves a penalty worse than death._ Reaching up to her eyes, she was surprised to find that they were moist. Hastily wiping them, she walked over to the unconscious commander. Looking down, she swept a wayward strand of dark hair from Shepard's face. _You poor child._ _Betrayed by those who were supposed to protect you. Your mother… she lied. Infants of four months don't crawl... and they certainly don't reach for inanimate objects. And that… _doctor_. He should have known better_._ I hope one day you find it in yourself to forgive humanity, let someone love and protect you as your family should have_.


	9. Chapter 9: Paradise Lost

**A/N: minor um… sexy business immediately below. Nothing *too* explicit, I dread to think of how awfully it would read if I even tried to write smut. I wrote this chapter sans-caffeine while waiting for friends to awaken, so apologies if there are any spelling / grammatical errors.**

**As usual, thanks for all the feedback/alerts, especially thedeadflag and Theodur. Seeing as I haven't written in ages, I would really appreciate if you could take an extra minute to let me know if there was anything you particularly disliked or liked. Too dark? Too cheesy? Shepard's potty mouth? It's all really useful and will guide future chapters (seeing as they're currently a mess of mumbo jumbo in my head). **

**Oh, and if you were wondering and haven't already seen the confirmation, the character speaking from the first-person point-of-view in the last chapter is Benezia. As for the one in this chapter, well…**

* * *

_December 2171_

From behind my closed eyelids, I am dreamily becoming aware of the soft glow of daybreak. Stubbornly, I yank a pillow over my head, content when I feel myself lulling back to sleep. It seems, however, that everything is conspiring against allowing me that pleasure. Suddenly, I become aware of a gentle trail of static down my neck. Without opening my eyes, I smile contentedly as I recognise Ariadne's gentle caress. A warm, humid sensation as she exhales, her lips hovering over that damned spot on my neck. Already, I can hear my heartbeat accelerating, feel it thumping against my chest. Obstinately resisting her beguiling lure, I refuse to budge, pretending she has had no effect on me. Immediately, I regret it, as I feel a smile, hear a throaty chuckle. She pulls away, her lips having been so tantalisingly close. I have to fight not to reach up and pull her head back down. A rustle as sheets move under her shifting weight. That same, teasing breath in my ear. It sends shivers up my spine.

"Wake up." The words are soft, but with a hint of aggression to them; the whisper deliberately aimed at nerves which make my eyes roll under their firmly-shut lids. My blissful smile widens, but still I keep my eyes closed. That sensual laugh repeats itself, before a hand trails along my back, my stomach, inching upwards and leaving a stream of goose bumps in its wake. It stops just maddeningly south of my breasts, before Ariadne resumes her tormenting linger over my neck. I can feel the muscles of my inner thighs twitching.

"Still asleep?" The titillating whisper _almost_ feels like the gentle brush of her lips. I try to protest, but all which escapes my lips is a soft moan. I feel her smile as she revels in her victory. Giving up all pretence, I roll onto my back, momentarily stunned as my eyes are treated to the bewitching form of my naked lover. I reach up, sweeping a wisp of her dark hair behind her ears. My emerald eyes lock on her soft brown ones.

"I love you." My voice is barely-audible murmur, and I smile when I see the twinkle in her eyes. This time, my eyes close of their own accord as Ariadne leans into a hungry kiss, her hands all over my yearning body.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

_Two months later_

Darkness. It is a state free of anguish and torments of the senses. In years past it has become my one unwavering companion, my one deliverance from the wickedness of those around me. Now, I cling to it, as I have always done. Despite my best efforts, the stimuli which pound at my senses overcome it; sounds become less muffled, and the coppery taste of dried blood returns.

As the world returns to me, I try to open my eyes. My right is incompliant, and I try again, this time with greater effort, before I remember that it is swollen shut. I try to loosen my cramping neck; warm, sticky blood runs down it from where my amp has been brutally yanked from its port in my scalp. My wrists are bound above me; I would be swaying if not for the excruciatingly heavy weights which have been attached to my ankles. The position I am in makes it extremely hard, but not impossible, to breathe. Sadly, I know that this is the intended effect.

With my one tired eye, I gaze at my broken body. Lacerations, bruises and burns abound. I have at least been afforded the dignity of underwear. Having seen how Finch and Durant have mutilated others in my position, this surprises me. As I wait for the day's torture to begin, I wonder how my duplicity had been discovered. That boy I had been sent to kill had gone into hiding; that Alliance lieutenant had made sure of that.

A door opens, and I resign myself to my fate.

_**I close my eyes.**_

The echo of footsteps grows louder, the familiar stench of tobacco.

_**He reaches for my face, I long for his gentle caress.**_

I grit my teeth as my face sizzles under his cigarette butt.

_**The breath catches in my throat as my face burns.**_

But… something is different. Masked by the pungent smoke is a sweeter scent, one which only holds happy thoughts for me. _No_. Finch and Durant would relish in torturing her in front of me, in my agony. My eye flies open, frantically searching for her, worried for her safety.

_**My heart aches so badly.**_

Recognition collides into me like a sledgehammer. My voice is barely more than a shocked whimper as I look upon the face of my tormentor.

_**I fall to the ground, my eyes no longer seeing.**_

_**My world is burning. **_

"Ari…?"

_**Your world will burn too.**_

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard's eyes flew open, muscles tensed as she attempted to jump out of bed. Around her, various alarms started going off, the incessant beeping only serving to worsen the pounding within her skull.

_Where the fuck am I?_

"Commander? Commander! Relax, Shepard. You're in the Normandy's med bay."

A face appeared overhead, wearing an expression of concern. She vaguely recognised the grey bob cut and green eyes as those of the ship's chief medical officer, Karin Chakwas. Relaxing, she began to take stock of her surroundings, noting that she was cocooned within a cellular regenerator. _I see you couldn't resist my charms, tin can_.

"Mornin' doc. Got any coffee? You don't want to see me without my morning coffee."

Chakwas rolled her eyes, before flashing a wan smile. "I'm your doctor, not your secretary, Commander. Besides, I thought you special forces types ran on adrenaline and more adrenaline."

Shepard snorted. "Only in bed, Doc, only in bed." She paused as a throat cleared itself; she had not been aware of anyone else in the room.

"Uh, I'll go fetch some, ma'am." Without waiting for a response, footsteps headed away, swiftly followed by the swoosh of the med bay doors.

"Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams, Shepard. She's been sat here since I finished putting you back together."

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "Since you finished putting me back together? How long was I out?"

"Just over 15 hours, Commander. Nine while I operated on your impressive assortment of injuries, and a further six I'm afraid I can't really explain."

"Can't really explain? C'mon Doc, give it to me straight."

"I would if I could, Commander, but the truth is, I'm not entirely sure myself. Clinically, I was certain you were in a coma, but scans of your brain showed activity levels only consistent with you being awake. If so you must have a vivid recollection of those six hours… do you remember anything?"

Another swoosh as the doors re-opened, the bittersweet aroma of coffee filling the air.

"I remember… Eden Prime, there was a bomb. I had to contain the blast. Then we approached the beacon. It… glowed, trapped Lt Alenko… Kaidan. Is he alright?"

"He's safe, ma'am," Ashley replied, setting the coffee down by the bio bed. "You managed to push him away from the beam. He's up in the CIC monitoring ops in your stead as we make our approach to the Citadel."

"The Citadel, huh?" Shepard grunted, nodding. "The beacon exploding was the last thing I really remember. So… Doc, on a scale of 1 – 10, how challenging was the jigsaw puzzle this time?"

Chakwas snorted, before chortling softly. "Don't give yourself so much credit, Commander. Let's just say I could have done this particular puzzle blindfolded with one hand taped behind my back. You were a walk in the park compared to some of the others I've treated."

Shepard grinned mischievously. "Guess I'll just have to try harder next time."

"I don't like having my afternoon tea disrupted, Commander. Next time, I could just pull rank and have you barred from joining the shore party."

"Killjoy."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Chakwas' laughter was interrupted as the med bay doors opened yet again, Anderson striding into the room.

"Shepard. Good to see you've decided to wake up and get your butt in gear."

"Sir, someone had to get this crew and ship squared away, sir!" Came the retort.

Chuckling, Anderson turned towards Chakwas and Ashley. "Ladies, if you would excuse us, please. I need a moment in private with our delightful XO. That is, Doctor, if she is –"

"Oh she's certainly well enough for a dressing down, Captain." Chakwas smirked at the grimace Shepard shot her, before pulling over a privacy screen and setting a clean set of uniform down beside her. "I thought you might want to address your Captain in something more than your bra and panties, Shepard."

"Well, a full debrief from a superior officer in dress blues in my underwear is an experience I have yet to have had... could be interesting."

Chakwas rolled her eyes and deactivated the cellular regenerator, gesturing to it. "It's done what it can. You can stand but nothing more strenuous than breathing, Commander, or I'll introduce you to angry Brit." She watched as Shepard gingerly sat up, a flicker of agony crossing her face before being buried almost immediately. She glanced down at her mummified torso, before looking up at Chakwas, shaking her head.

"Honestly, Doc… 7 out of 10… I look like a goddamn Michelin man and I feel like I have Anderson's boot up my ass. Maybe you should rethink the blindfolded and one-handed thing."

"Pavlovian conditioning, Shepard. Look it up. Leaving you with a gentle reminder of your stunts is the only way I can attempt to safeguard my afternoon tea."

Shepard laughed as she pulled her uniform over her head. "Doc, if I were you, I'd switch to morning coffee."

Chakwas sighed as she pulled away the privacy screen. "She's all yours, Captain, and good riddance. I'll be in the mess hall if you need me. Come on, Chief. I think you owe me a tea after my valiant efforts yesterday."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Anderson eyed his XO as she carefully leaned against the bio bed, arms folded across her chest. He knew from the slow, careful way she was moving that she was in a significant amount of pain; he also knew that the chances of her showing it or asking for painkillers were about as high as that of seeing a female turian.

"Shepard –" he began, but was swiftly interrupted.

"Jenkins, sir, he was KIA." A pause as she fixed her gaze at some distant point, face unreadable. "I'm sorry, sir. He was a good kid. He –"

"I know, soldier. We've retrieved his body and his next-of-kin have been notified. His family on Eden Prime was killed, but he had an aunt on Earth. A transport will take possession of the remains once we dock at the Citadel."

"The Citadel, sir?"

"I won't lie, Shepard. Things aren't looking good. A Geth invasion, Nihlus dead, the beacon destroyed. The Council is going stir-crazy and are accusing you of a cover-up. They think we've stolen the data within the beacon for ourselves and killed Nihlus to cover our tracks. They –"

"With all due respect sir, the Council can go fuck a grizzly. They're thick as horseshit and only half as useful if that's what they think. We did everything we could down there. The situation was FUBAR from the get-go."

Anderson smiled. Even banged up as she was, Shepard was still as eloquent as ever. "Shepard, you don't have to justify yourself to me. You've never had to and you never will. But, Alliance Command is also concerned. Eden Prime would have been devastated by the Geth if not for your intervention. We _need_ the Council's help. We can't protect all our fringe colonies without it."

Shepard sighed. "Tango with the politicians. Whoop-de-fucking-doo. Can't you get Chakwas to put me on medical leave or something?"

Anderson shook his head lightly. "I would if I could, Shepard. I won't lie, we're headed into the lion's den. The turian councillor is already calling for your arrest for treason. The Alliance won't let that happen, of course, but we have no bartering power… unless…"

Shepard eyed him warily. "Don't complete that sentence, sir, I hate it when you do that. Usually means I'd deck you if you weren't a superior officer."

A smirk. "Did you manage to learn anything from the beacon, Shepard? Alenko and Williams both told me it did something to you – then you were out for 15 hours, six of which Chakwas couldn't explain."

He watched closely as Shepard stiffened almost imperceptibly, her expression still unfathomable. "Nothing useful, sir. Just some hinky as shit flashes. Like a bad horror movie."

Anderson's eyes narrowed. _She's hiding something_. "Don't bullshit me now, Commander. I know you well enough to know when you're hiding something. Why you never open up to people who care for you is beyond me." Shepard glowered at him, a reaction he pointedly ignored. "I need to know, Shepard, no matter how insignificant you think it is."

Shepard sighed, closing her eyes and massaging her temples. "Fine," she snapped. "As long as you promise to keep the shrinks away when I'm done." When Anderson rolled his eyes, she continued. "It was some sort of vision… a warning, I think. It was a fucking mess… just bits and pieces. Someone dying. Someone's kid dying. Someone's kid making someone die. Someone's house on fire… someone's world on fire…" Her voice trailed off slightly, softening. "Some kind of machine-led invasion… someone saying we were next."

Anderson considered this thoughtfully, never taking his eyes off his XO. She was looking at the wall, pre-occupied by something else. He cleared his throat, and her gaze shifted back to him. "We have to tell the Council this."

Shepard blinked. "Sir, excuse me?"

"We have to tell the Council," he repeated. "The fact that this was obtained directly from a Prothean beacon non-withstanding, I have another reason. Much as you don't like me to say it, you're like a daughter to me, Shepard. I know when you're concerned about something, no matter how hard you try to hide it. If it concerns you, it concerns me. Ergo, the Council needs to know."

Shepard laughed bitterly. "With all due respect, _daddy_, you're away with the motherfucking fairies if you think the Council is going to give a rat's ass about a scary nightmare a pathetic human traitor had. I can't believe you just suggested that. I feel like my IQ's dropped 10 points."

"Shepard, follow my lead on this one. Please. We'll be docking at the Citadel in 11 hours or so. I need you at full strength if we're going to go sparring with the Council. Catch some rack time and be up in the CIC in 9 hours." Anderson's tone brokered no argument. Shepard let out a menacing growl, glaring at him.

"Well, all of humanity and the batarians already think I'm bat shit crazy. Might as well add the turians, asari and salarians to that list while we're at it."

"That's my girl."

He turned to exit the med bay, before stopping. Shepard groaned and raised an eyebrow. "Don't. Whatever it is, I'm sure I don't want to hear it."

Anderson laughed. "Wrong, smartass. I'm pretty sure you do. Alenko's report praised Chief Williams strongly. On the back of it, I've had her transferred to the Normandy… unless you disagree strongly, of course."

This time, Shepard actually smirked. "You're right, old man, I did want to hear that. Williams is a fine soldier. More like her and we'd only need a Navy a tenth the size to kick the shit out of any two-bit thug who looks the wrong way at us."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Hey, there."

Kaidan looked up from his seat in the mess hall, pleasantly surprised to see Ashley standing over him, two cups of coffee in hand. "I thought you could use a pick-me-up after spending 10 hours doing ops."

"You got that right, Chief."

"You can call me Ash, LT, we're not on duty."

"Alright… but it works both ways. Kaidan." A pause as they both sipped at their coffee. "How're you holding up, Ash? On Eden Prime… we never asked, but if you want to talk about it… or not," he added quickly, when a dark look crossed Ashley's face.

"They're gone, I'm not. It's tough to live with."

Kaidan nodded understandingly. "Yeah, Jenkins…." Another pause.

"Sir, I –"

"Kaidan," he repeated firmly.

"Uh, Kaidan. I never knew Jenkins, but, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I… I know the Captain brought me on to fill his place but… I'm not him. I could never be someone other than Ashley Williams."

"Of course, Ash." Kaidan sighed, deciding to change the subject. "How's the Commander? I meant to go and check on her, but with ops being what they were, I barely had time for a bathroom break."

"She's on the mend. The doc said she'll make a full recovery. No doubt she'll be busting our asses and yelling our ears off in a couple of hours."

Kaidan chuckled. "Do you know much about her, Ash?"

"Not much," Ashley admitted. "I vaguely recognised her name on Eden Prime… some decorated war hero, right? I was going to look up her service records, but haven't had the chance. Doc imprisoned me in the med bay for a few hours."

"I won't spoil too much for you, then. Suffice to say, her history is… colourful. If you've heard of Torfan."

"The Commander's the Butcher of Torfan?" Ashley's eyes widened slightly before a look of – _please tell me that isn't awe_ – crossed her face.

"Yeah…" Kaidan answered warily, before continuing. "She's not quite what I expected. Don't get me wrong, she rode us harder than any DI I've ever had back on Eden Prime, but some things she did…" He paused as his thoughts wandered. "Promising to get Jenkins a proper funeral, letting my SNAFU with those husks slide, taking care of that bomb the way she did… and… the beacon. I don't get why she pushed me out of the way. I keep thinking back to it. Everything I've heard about her goes against what she did. Scuttlebutt says she would have let the beacon attack me, save her own ass and complete the mission."

Ashley shrugged. "Maybe the scuttlebutt is wrong. Or maybe it was started by angry relatives and soldiers who survived under her command. Either way, she did a hell of a thing with that bomb. You didn't see her injuries before the medigel was applied, Kaidan. She nearly died trying to save that colony."

"Still, I was stunned that she did it. After you told me, I was surprised she didn't try to save herself and have me erect the barrier instead."

Ashley was getting irritated now. "It seems like your impression of her is wrong, Kaidan. If you'll excuse me, there are guns which need cleaning and modding."

Standing quickly, she turned, stalking towards the elevator. In her fury, she didn't see the figure stood in the darkness by the med bay doors, its emerald eyes watching her intently.


	10. Chapter 10: Semper Paratus

**A/N: so, back from NYC and back to work… not sure how much I'll get to update this week. Anyway, we'll see… Thanks for all the feedback, it goes without saying how appreciated it is!**

* * *

Shepard leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up on the desk, ignoring the biting pain her change in position brought. Her tiny quarters were dark, the only illumination coming from the soft hue of a stack of datapads. She had been studying the personnel records of the crew for hours without pause, unable to sleep. Now, she had nothing left to read, and her racing thoughts were only serving to worsen her crushing headache.

Rubbing her left shoulder, she winced as the pressure passed over the healing joint. _Man the fuck up, Shep_. Gritting her teeth, she reached for her duffel with her left arm, deftly unzipping one of the compartments and removing the fist-sized rubber ball it held. Angling her chair and body slightly such that she was facing a bare wall, she tossed the ball onto the ground, watching it bounce towards the wall, off it, back to the floor then into her waiting hand. Grimacing as she felt her shoulder groaning under the strain, she repeated the motion a few times, gradually increasing the force with which she initially threw the ball. Eventually, she was snarling in pain as she flung the ball directly against the wall, each time willing her uncooperative joint to submit to another rapid change in direction.

She only stopped her vicious assault on the unresponsive and unyielding wall when her shoulder seized up in cramp, forcing her to stop the projectile with a stasis field in order to avoid a black eye. She glared angrily at the ball, before picking it out of the air with her good hand and tossing it back into the open compartment of her duffel without so much as a backward glance. She briefly considered attempting another form of physiotherapy before the thought of "angry Brit" gave her pause, an amused smirk crossing her face as she imagined what that might look like.

Sighing, she idly massaged her cramping limb as her thoughts drifted towards the conversation she had overheard earlier. Although she had held no illusions as to what other soldiers might say about her behind her back, hearing it first-hand with her own ears had stung. She would never admit this to anyone, of course. Showing such vulnerability was tantamount to a display of weakness, and would only open her up for emotional attack. _As if I haven't had enough of that shit to last a fucking lifetime_. Something Kaidan had said was gnawing at her, though.

"_I was surprised she didn't try to save herself and have me erect the barrier instead."_

_Really, lieutenant?_ Shepard thought bitterly, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw was starting to ache. She could understand him thinking her a ruthless bitch. She could understand him being reluctant to serve under her. Hell, she could even understand him disobeying a direct order back on Eden Prime. But for him to think she would needlessly sacrifice his worthless ass while running like a coward to save her own?

Ever since she had qualified from Officer Cadet School, the Alliance had inexplicably thrust all the decisions no one wanted to make on her. Someone had to get their hands bloody, and none of the pencil pushers who avoided front-line work wanted even a hint of that on their perfectly manicured nails. _Might as well be someone so fucked up that nothing even perturbs her anymore, right?_ The sour thought welled up such fury within her that she unconsciously started to find an outlet, her entire body suddenly wreathed in blue fire.

Noticing the blue light reflecting off the wall, she chastised herself for the rare loss of self-control. _Get it together, Shepard. You're not some fucking gangster tossing off biotics to compensate your complete lack of power_. Her face twisting into a snarl, she clenched her fist so hard her trimly-cut nails started breaking the skin of her palm. Slowly, the glow faded, till the room was once again bathed in relative darkness.

Her rage ebbing, she scrubbed a hand over her face before running it through her hair. Wearily, she checked her chrono – 20 minutes till she was due back in the CIC. She sighed as she stood quickly and yanked on a uniform, almost relishing in the pain which resulted. It was definitely preferable to the hurt of being so misunderstood, or the vast, barren chasm that was her loneliness in the colossal expanse of space.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Joker sat back in his chair, interlocking his fingers and stretching his hands out away from his body. He had been at his station far too long for his liking, and his back was starting to ache. _Trust the cheap bastards at Alliance HQ to skimp on the pilot's seat. Best damn pilot in the fleet and all I'm worth is a hard plastic hammock wannabe._ He was so bored that he briefly considered putting on some _Vaenia_, just for the added challenge of flying whilst watching porn. _Go right ahead… Anderson will bust your fragile ass to hell and back_.

Sighing, he decided to entertain himself in a less… illicit way. Grinning, he opened up a comm link to Alenko's workstation; the lieutenant was a workaholic – there was no way he would be anywhere else. True to prediction, his call was answered almost immediately.

"Joker, this better be work-related… we're only 20 minutes out from the Citadel."

"Relax, Kaidan. It's not like as if the Captain or his scary XO are going to walk in on us… I checked up on them a couple of minutes ago and they've confined themselves to their quarters like all good COs do. Besides, you need to stop working so hard and get that stick out your ass – you're going to have no joy with the ladies on the Citadel otherwise."

Joker winced as Kaidan's scoff resulted in a bit too much feedback from the loudspeaker. "Right. Taking advice on the ladies from the wise-ass single pilot whose idea of a romantic night is a screening of _Vaenia_, followed by another screening of _Vaenia_. I think I'll pass; thanks."

"Touché, Lieutenant!" Although there was no one to appreciate his antics, Joker nonetheless animated his reply with a wounded expression, clutching both hands to his chest. "Anyway, I called to get the gossip. I hear you had the pleasure of the company of the two hottest pieces of ass on this fine vessel, you dog, you."

The comm spluttered as Kaidan coughed, and Joker relished in his mental image of the LT blushing away furiously. "That's not very professional, Joker."

"Neither is doing an extranet image search on our fine Commander, followed in quick succession by one on the new Chief. You really need to learn how to look for the pictures you need for your… urges, LT. Keying in "Ashley Williams Alliance Navy 212", browsing a couple of pages, then "Ashley Williams ass", then "Ashley Williams naked" really isn't going to get you anywhere. Hasn't it occurred to you that those are among the first search terms the brass would think to filter? Jeez, it's like watching a pre-pubescent boy trying to buy his first porn movie."

"Wh- wha- h-how?"

Joker could barely breathe; he was laughing too hard at hearing Kaidan spluttering over the comm. "So… I want a crate of Serrice Ice Brandy, a leather overlay for my chair and every single reel of porn you can get your dirty mitts on whilst ashore in exchange for my silence. Have the items to me by the end of the day and I'll even throw in a class on how to search the extranet efficiently and securely."

"Has anyone ever told you what an ass you are, Joker?" Kaidan's voice was indignant now, but there was also a hint of resignation in it.

"All the time, Kaidan, all the time. It's what I live for. Now, about the Commander's mighty fine ass… I hear that in real life, it's –"

"Standing right behind you, Flight Lieutenant."

Joker's gleeful celebration was rudely interrupted by a stern voice which was, true to its word, coming from right behind him. He paled as he first shifted his eyes, then turned his head slowly. Still unable to see the embodiment of that voice, he swallowed, reluctantly swivelling his chair around. He felt his heart stop as he found himself staring into a pair of cold, green eyes. The commander's expression was completely unreadable; he was not sure what to make of her body language – she stood leaning on her right shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded and feet crossed. _Shit, Joker. She's going to chop your balls off and…_ he shuddered, too terrified to complete the thought.

He laughed nervously, wiping the back of a hand over his mouth. The comm was deathly silent. _Damn coward, Alenko!_ "Uh… morning, ma'am… didn't see you the–"

"Evidently not, Mr Moreau. I doubt I would have had the pleasure of hearing you and Lieutenant Alenko discussing – remind me again, what was it? Oh yes… Gunnery Chief Williams' extranet image search results, contraband, mmm what was that last thing? Ah of course, silly me, how could I forget? My. Fine. Ass."

Joker flinched as the extent of what the Commander had overheard became clear. With each word, he felt himself shrink further into his seat. "Ah… er… you… um… you heard all that," he mumbled weakly. _I think she's actually enjoying herself_.

Shepard flashed what looked to Joker to be a menacing grin. "Yes, boys, I did," she cooed. "As it so happens, Lieutenant Alenko, you find yourself in luck. We're 10 minutes out from the Citadel and I want us docked and squared away yesterday. When we return, however, you'll be cleaning out the crew bathrooms, kitchen and shuttle bay, sans ship sanitizers, with a nail clipper and a toothbrush. Mr Moreau, your omni-tool, please."

Joker swallowed, watching the XO warily as he handed her his omni-tool. She keyed in a few buttons, before letting out a low chuckle and turning on her heel. "Next time, Mr Moreau, I might not be in such a forgiving mood. Don't let this happen again or I'll stick your tibia up your ass and turn you into a fucking Popsicle."

Sighing with relief, Joker inspected his omni-tool, groaning when he realised what she had done. All his video had been set to play backwards at twice the speed. Permanently. _Vaenia_ was going to be one neglected vid…

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard was actually enjoying herself as she watched Udina flail at the Council. Although she was irked by the holier-than-thou attitudes of the three holographic projections, it was strangely satisfying to see Udina have his ass handed to him. The man was a conceited toad more concerned with his own ambition than the actual representation of humanity to the Council. She caught Anderson's eye, both of their mouths twisting into grins – quickly, she turned away and broke eye contact before her barely-stifled guffaw became audible. She momentarily considered going to join Alenko and Williams on the balcony, before Anderson tapped her on the shoulder, tilting his head towards Udina; the call was just about finishing. With a dramatic sigh, Udina flipped off the comm, turning towards the two officers.

"Captain Anderson," he sneered. "And the illustrious Butcher of Torfan. I see you saw fit to bring half your crew with you. Was that really necessary?"

Eyes flashing, Shepard replied before Anderson could open his mouth. "_Semper paratus_, Ambassador. You'll never know when a thug or a bureaucratic sycophant needs to be drilled between the eyeballs. Marines are good at that."

"Is that a threat, Commander?"

Shepard pretended to look offended, still intent on mocking the ambassador. She sensed that, since Anderson had not interrupted her, he was quietly enjoying himself. "No, sir. Citadel is a dangerous place, sir, especially now the Geth have declared war and a Spectre's gone rogue. Since you've accused him in public, you're a target. Wouldn't want anything to crease your perfectly ironed shirt. Or another politician flinging mud at it. Sir."

Udina bristled, glaring at her. "Settle down, Commander. You've already done more than enough to jeopardize your candidacy for the Spectres. An addled donkey could have done a better job on Eden Prime. Do you have any idea how hard I had to work to –"

"Ambassador, the Spectres can wash my ass with their saliva. I have no interest in joining their ranks, though you do have my _sincerest_ gratitude for your efforts."

Glowering, Udina rounded on Anderson. "Captain, your executive officer is forgetting her place. I suggest you restrain her before she finds herself court martialled."

Shepard hated politicians and their hubris. Udina trying to bully her with threats of a court martial were not helping in the slightest. Her voice dripping with sarcasm, she again spoke before Anderson , refusing to let him be dragged into her little spat with Udina. "My apologies, Ambassador, I had no idea a civilian could call a court martial. You will not hear another wayward word from my mouth."

Udina gaped at her, for once at a loss for words, before an unlikely saviour, in the form of Anderson, came to his rescue. "Ambassador, seeing as the Council has granted us an audience, I suggest we go over some of the reports I've brought with me."

Clearing his throat, Udina looked at him and nodded, before shooting Shepard another dirty look. "The Council will see us in two hours, Shepard. Be there then and not one second later. I assume they teach donkeys how to read a chrono in boot?"

Shepard smiled sweetly. "Yes, sir. They also taught us how to cut off a man's balls and boil them in said man's own piss. Sir."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and saluted Anderson, before striding towards the door. "Williams! Alenko! Let's get some air."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The moment the door shut behind them, Ashley chuckled. "Ma'am, I gotta say, you handed that slimeball's ass to him. Had it been me, I don't think I'd have been able to resist making his crooked nose even more crooked."

Shepard laughed. "Just so we're clear, Williams, even think about talking like that to me and I will –"

"Hit me so hard I shit teeth. Heard you loud and clear the first time, ma'am."

The commander grinned, slapping Ashley on her shoulder. "Nice to see at least one thing rubbed off on you." She glanced over at Kaidan, who seemed lost in his own thoughts. Cocking her head to one side, she studied the man for a second before reaching over and snapping her fingers loudly in his ear. When he jumped, both women snorted in amusement. "Good of you to join us, Alenko. We wer–"

"Ashley? Ashley Williams?" the three marines whirled towards the unfamiliar voice, Shepard's hand hovering over her pistol.

"Samesh?" Ashley breathed, paling.

Instantly, Shepard's pistol was in her hand and pointed man Ashley had called Samesh. Snarling, she demanded, "who are you and what the fuck do you want with a member of my crew?"

She was surprised when Ashley jumped in between them, placing her hand on Shepard's outstretched arm. "No! Commander! It's okay! Samesh is not a threat. I know him. I… I served with his wife. Nirali Bhattia. She was part of the 212 on Eden Prime."

Shepard blinked, before lowering her weapon and softening her gaze. "You have my apologies, sir, and… my condolences. I understand the 212 fought heroically to protect the civilians on Eden Prime."

Ashley stepped aside, turning to face Samesh, who exhaled and shook his head lightly. "I-it's ok, Commander. I am glad Ashley found herself such a protective commanding officer." Moving his eyes to Ashley, a look of consideration crossed his face, before he buried his face in his hands. "Ashley… I need your help."

"Of course, Samesh, anything you need," Ashley said gently, laying a hand on his shoulder. She glanced at the Commander, her plea for leave to help a grieving husband unspoken but clear. When Shepard nodded, she turned her worried gaze back on Samesh. "Hey, Samesh… tell us what the problem is. We'll try our best to help you."

Samesh raised his head, tears brimming in his eyes and trickling down his face. "It's Nirali…" his voice cracked, and Ashley pulled him into a tight hug.

"Take your time, Samesh," she whispered.

They stood there for a few long seconds before Samesh took a deep breath and broke the embrace. "The Alliance… they've refused to return her body to me. They won't tell me why. Ashley… I need to bury her, please…"

Ashley and Shepard exchanged dark glances, before Shepard spoke. "Mr Bhattia, I don't know what's gone wrong but I promise you I will find out and try my damnest to get your wife back home to you. Is there someone in the Alliance you've been in contact with?"

"Y-yes Commander. His name is Clerk Bosker. He's in the embassy lounge right now, at a table just opposite the main entrance. He's dressed in a violet suit with purple trimmings."

"Alright Mr Bhattia. Ashley and I will go and speak to Bosker." Gesturing to Kaidan, she continued. "This is Kaidan Alenko. He'll stay with you until we return."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard stalked into the embassy lounge, Ashley wordlessly following. Both women were more than a little peeved. Pausing in the doorway, Shepard surveyed the scene. The lounge was basically a glorified bar, with humans from all walks of life seated at tables dotted around the room. In the corner, she spotted a group of privates, presumably on shore leave, indulging in a bit too much alcohol. They were getting rowdy, and she shook her head in mild amusement as she caught wind of one of them gushing about some asari consort he was trying to get an appointment with. Finally, her eyes fell upon a man who matched Samesh's description. He was lounging in an easy chair, legs crossed with a drink in one hand and a datapad, which he was perusing lazily, in the other.

Stopping in front of his table, Shepard cleared her throat. "Clerk Bosker?"

"Who wants to know?" The reply was impatient; Bosker had not even bothered to look up from his datapad.

"Commander Shepard and Gunnery Chief Williams, Alliance Navy."

Instantly, Bosker was on his feet, a terrified expression on his face. "C-commander Sh-shepard! W-what can I do for you?"

"I take it you've heard of me," Shepard remarked dryly. When Bosker only swallowed in reply, she continued. "Never mind. I'm here on behalf of one Samesh Bhattia. His wife, Nirali Bhattia, was KIA on Eden Prime. There seems to have been some sort of administrative mix-up – he claims that the Alliance is refusing to return the body and that they won't tell him why. I've been informed that you can help shed some light on the situation. So. Talk."

Bosker tugged at his collar, before wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. As he spoke, his confidence and arrogance seemed to return. "Ah… y-yes. Serviceman Bhattia's body was recovered when recovery crews landed on Eden Prime yesterday. Unfortunately, she sustained some very unique injuries. Alliance R&D has decided to take possession of the body to study the remains."

"You bastards," Ashley snarled, her expression one of utter fury as she took a step towards Bosker. Shepard touched her wrist lightly and caught her eye, before fixing Bosker with an icy glare. When she spoke, it was in a quiet, seething voice which those who knew her trembled at.

"Mr Bosker. Chief Williams and I were on Eden Prime during the Geth attack. Over the course of our mission, we neutered scores of Geth. Every single one of those tin can's weapons lay scattered on the ground for R&D to recover. My team and I also scanned the bodies of marines for R&D. I see no reason why you should hold Serviceman Bhattia's body. You already have everything you need."

Bosker coughed nervously. "With all due respect, ma'am, you're not from R&D. You can't possibly know how much enough for our purposes is. We need that body in order to develop better defences against Geth technology."

Shepard had had enough of pencil-pushing bureaucrats to last a lifetime. In an instant, Bosker found himself pinned against the wall by her forearm. Scowling, she formed a wisp of biotic energy over her free hand, holding it to his face as if it were a naked flame. "Bosker, seeing as you won't listen to reason, listen to this. You will release Serviceman Bhattia's body _today_. You will fly her and her husband home with a full military escort and you will ensure that she receives a funeral with full honours. She and the rest of the 212 died so that little shits like you could wear your over-starched suits and wax lyrical about their heroic sacrifice. If you so much as think about dishonouring her memory by prohibiting a burial, I will personally take that datapad of yours and beat some fucking sense into you with it. Am I being perfectly clear?"

Bosker's eyes were wide, fixed on the wisp of energy held so near his cheek, and he was now visibly sweating. "Y-yes… I… I n-need to m-make a f-few c-calls," he stammered.

Shepard released him and stepped back. "Make them, but do it quickly. If Mr Bhattia doesn't contact me by the end of the day to say that matters have been resolved, I'll be paying you another visit. And this time, I'll let my actions speak for themselves."

Spinning on her heel, she stalked out of the embassy lounge, Ashley in tow.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Ashley was fuming. How could the Alliance be so crass? Nirali had given her life in service to it, and now they had wanted to subject her body to their whims in death as well? Thank God the Commander had stepped in to help. The woman scared the shit out of her, and maybe there were elements of truth to the stories about her, but she was beginning to think that there was perhaps more to her than meets the eye. As they approached the waiting area where they had left the two men, she saw Kaidan sitting beside Samesh, hand on his back, mumbling softly. Samesh had tears streaming down his face. She had to admit, despite that stick up his ass and his irritating way of jumping to conclusions, the LT was a good man. She shuddered to think of what she would have done with Samesh in his place. She was no good with painful emotions, after all. Happy, lovey-dovey stuff sure, but hurt and pain? Hell, a bullet could solve matters better than she could.

"Mr Bhattia, sir, I've had a little chat with our mutual friend Mr Bosker. He has assured me that Nirali's remains will be returned to Earth, with you in accompaniment, at your convenience." Shepard was crouching, ducking her head so that her eyes, which held a warmth Ashley was stunned to see, could meet Samesh's. She laid a hand on his knee, before reaching out and activating his omni-tool and punching in some information. "This is my personal omni-tool number. You call me at the end of today regardless of what happens."

Samesh stared at her, his tears showing little sign of abating. "T-thank you, Commander. I did not expect such help from a stranger." When she nodded, he looked up at Ashley. "And you, too, Ashley. Nirali always talked so much about you and how you helped her through all those drills. I was so happy when she dragged you to our humble house to meet me… I… I am glad that you're here… and that you are safe."

Shepard stood and quietly moved aside, allowing Ashley the opportunity to slide in beside Samesh. She looked at him sadly, fighting to hold back her own tears. Nirali had been like a little sister to her. They had shared every single piece of scuttlebutt there was to be had; even started some themselves, in jest, of course. Under her guidance, Nirali had grown from a timid recruit into a trained soldier. It was safe to say she was feeling her loss, as Samesh was.

"Samesh…" as she mumbled his name, her voice cracked a little. Shepard looked at Kaidan, tilting her head to the side and walking away to give the two some privacy. "Nirali… she was my sister. But her world… it was you, and only you. She would talk me to sleep with stories about how you courted each other. She made me recite Keats and Coleridge when she missed you; she said the romantics reminded her of your proposal, your marriage. Every night, when she thought I was asleep, she'd whisper to your photo, telling you how she missed you and how she loved you. But… Samesh, she wouldn't want you to grieve, ok?"

Samesh took a deep breath, nodding. He wiped his eyes, composing himself, as he whispered, "thank you, Ashley. I… you don't need me to tell you she loved you too. I… I know you did everything you could to save her. From what she told me of you, you must be very angry at yourself… but please, don't be. For me and Nirali if nothing else."

_A widower is consoling me? _Ashley's eyes were heating now as she merely nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Samesh put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder, neither attempting to move.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The party strode along a deserted alleyway in silence. They had taken a detour through here to avoid the throngs of people in the lower wards. The heat and crowd was suffocating, and with the weight of thoughts on their mind, that had been the last thing any of them had needed. There was still an hour to kill before the meeting with the Council, and Shepard had all but ordered them to a watering hole, ignoring the protests on Kaidan's lips.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Selvin watched as the woman his dossier had identified as Shepard looked over to the other, Williams, before patting her on the shoulder. Her head was bowed and her eyes were fixed on the floor. The other man, Alenko, was shooting concerned glances in Williams' direction, his gaze lingering on her just a bit too long when he thought no one was looking.

_So nice of you to pick a location for me, Commander Shepard_. He smirked as he re-centred her head in his cross-hairs, gesturing for his companions to do likewise for their targets. Holding his breath to steady the shot, he squeezed the trigger.


	11. Chapter 11: It's a Trap!

**A/N: Theodur and thedeadflag, you guys are awesome! There probably won't be an update tomorrow, work beckons. Also, increasing visitor numbers aside, the material is probably a bit stale and possibly slightly off-putting to some. At least Liara gets to make an appearance soon! Might take a brief hiatus to think about the story… don't worry, this chapter is sans cliffhangers X)  
**

**Slight edit... for some reason, FF decided to remove 5% of my punctuation. Whizzed through and corrected what I could.  
**

* * *

Shepard knew that her constant cursing and threats of violence lead many people to believe she was nothing more than an obtuse thug on the Alliance's very long leash. Sometimes, she even went out of her way to reinforce that point of view. Having an opponent underestimate her was one of the biggest advantages she could gain on the battlefield, after all.

Barely moments after leaving Bhattia's side, her gut was churning. She had a vague sensation of being watched, but could not put her finger on it. She strolled over to the balcony by the embassy reception, pretending to gawk at the scenery; having Ashley and Kaidan genuinely mesmerized by the sprawling vista made the act even more convincing. She activated her omni-tool, pretending to take scenic photos, while subtly initializing its in-built long-range directional microphone.

As she moved her omni-tool over various vaguely-interesting sights, her earpiece cackled to life. There was a couple arguing heatedly over gene therapy for their unborn child. _Seriously? In a fucking public car park? That's like, begging for some nosy stranger to offer their overbearing opinion_. Over on a bridge, one of those ridiculous glowing pink jellyfishes was pulsating away, spewing fanatical bullshit about some enlightened mass relay-producing Santa Clauses. A C-Sec officer was, thankfully trying to remove said jellyfish, but his inept flapping was almost as irksome as the silly pink hanar God squad-equivalent. Shepard had to fight not to reach for her sniper rifle. _It's fucking pink! Fucking eyesore_. On the other end of the Presidium, a Salarian was squatting behind a keeper, face plastered next to its insectile butt. Next to him was... _wait, what?_ Shepard swivelled her camera back to the Salarian, squinting, trying to make out exactly what type of fucked up sexual fantasy he was trying to enact. Shuddering imperceptibly, she decided she did not want to know after all, and continued scanning the Presidium.

Then, she had seen him. Drell were so rare she had only ever heard about them in the N1 class on aliens and their associated strengths and weaknesses. She had never actually seen one in the flesh, so her attention was naturally drawn to him. He was standing amidst a throng of people, right where the crowd was thickest, in the Emporium, ostensibly trying to pick out a necklace for his girlfriend. He laughed with the saleswoman, even asking her if she would model the chosen necklace for him.

She shifted her viewfinder to the lakefront opening of the shop, watching him with the peripheries of her vision. His clothing was non-descript; nothing too bright or too dark. In fact, they were so drab that a blind person could have picked them out for him. This had immediately set alarm bells ringing in Shepard's head. There was something about that drell... he was almost _too_ unremarkable. _Plus, there ain't a snowflake's chance in hell someone dressed like that could afford that shiny little trinket_.

She fought a smirk as she caught him glance up at her, before turning back to the shopkeeper.

_Come out and play, monkeyfucker_.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The alleyway made perfect sense. It was free of potentially-messy civilians and had ample cover in the guise of storage crates and sanitizer bins. Plus, it formed a choke-point of sorts, in case there were more than the three goons Shepard had already spotted. One of them had been hefting a weapons case over his shoulder. From its size and his uneven gait, she had mentally worked out that he had been carrying a mix high-calibre sniper rifles and possibly some sub-machine guns.

"Three bogeys on our six, eight and four o'clock," she murmured, lips unmoving, as they approached the alleyway. "Follow my lead."

Ashley and Kaidan exchanged glances without turning their heads, following Shepard wordlessly into the alleyway. A couple of minutes later, Shepard looked over at Ashley, whose gaze was fixed downwards. Williams was acting every bit the hurting friend, but in reality was mentally marking the three snipers from their reflections in the glossy storage canisters. Shepard placed a hand on her shoulder, pressing down firmly with three fingers first, then increasing the pressure on the left-most finger. Kaidan looked over at Ashley, who placed a hand suggestively on her right hip, cocking it.

Suddenly, Shepard whirled, pistol in hand. A shimmering barrier appearing in front of the three marines, just as three shots collided into it. At the same instant, Ashley's custom-painted Mantis was in hand, its muzzle flashing as the left-most thug's head snapped back violently. Kaidan had ducked to one knee instinctively. Raising an arm, he concentrated, and the goon on the right found himself lifted helplessly into the air, before a cracking force slammed him into a nearby wall, breaking his neck.

Shepard, for her part, had flung a singularity at the drell lying on his stomach. She half-blinked when a bolt of blue swatted it out of the way, before a strangely-excited grin danced across her face. Indicating to Ashley and Kaidan to get into cover, she disappeared in a flash, materialising beside the drell who had turned, fist alight, as he sent a vicious right hook towards her face. Barely blocking it in time, she countered with a quick jab to his stomach, before aiming a brutal kick at his kneecap. She was almost impressed when he jumped out of the way, lashing both feet towards her chest. She gasped and staggered as they made contact, feeling a crack of her barely-healed ribs.

Ignoring the flashing whiteness, she lowered her right shoulder, growling as she tackled the assassin into the wall. Hearing his sharp bark as the impact winded him, she rammed her knee upwards towards his crotch, remembering that drell, like humans, had an exquisitely sensitive area there. He yelped and doubled over, allowing her to land a ferocious hook onto his face. He stumbled, and she made to grab him by the collar, but was left holding on to thin air as a flash of blue crashed into her left shoulder, racing away.

Pain lanced through her as the force of the impact dislocated her fragile shoulder. She fell to one knee, head swimming as her left arm dangled uselessly at her side. _Goddamn shit-eating sheepfucker!_ Gradually, the world came back into focus as her hardsuit activated its first-aid protocols.

"Give it up, Shepard," a calm voice rang out.

"Fuck. You." Shepard sat back against the crates behind her, pistol cradled in her lap. Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, Shepard brutally yanked her left arm away from her torso, snarling back a scream as her humerus separated further from her scapula before popping back into place.

"Yes, indeed… I'd show you a good time, too," came the dry response.

Panting, Shepard composed herself, steadying her voice. "I'd rather fuck a goat. I've seen elcor more handsome than you."

"Come now, Shepard. Let's stop this tiring exchange. I'm sure Chief Williams would like us to." Shepard's breath caught in her throat. _Fuck, no_. She hugged the corner, pressing her face into the crate just enough to see around it. The drell had his arm around Ashley's neck, sub-machine gun pointed at her temple. He was backed up against a corner, such that neither Shepard nor Kaidan had a clear shot.

_Sorry, Ash._

Shepard swung out of cover, pistol raised. As she did so, she jerked her arm backwards, ignoring Ashley's surprised yelp as she was roughly flung into a crowd of sanitizer bins. Immediately, she opened fire, and heard Kaidan do the same. The drell only managed a few shots of his own before the combined barrage overcame his barriers and he slumped to the ground. Walking over to his body, Shepard kicked his weapon away, before crouching and feeling for a pulse. Unable to find one, she cursed, and instead began rifling through his pockets, although there was nothing helpful to be found. _Fucking assassins..._

"Commander!" Her angry thoughts were interrupted by Kaidan's anxious yell. Looking up, she saw him crouched over Ashley, who was lying very still. _Shit_. She ran over as fast as her cracked ribs would allow. Stopping, she took stock of Ashley's injuries. The impact of the throw had taken out her shield generator, and the fucking bastard had pegged her twice in the chest. Kaidan was already packing the wounds with medigel, but Ashley's breaths were coming in gurgling gasps, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Turning away slightly, she opened a link to the Normandy. "Normandy! Chief Williams has been seriously wounded. Get Chakwas to my location yesterday!"

Shepard knelt, placing a hand on Ashley's shoulder and gripping her chin with the other. "Stay with us, marine. That's a fucking order, or so help me, I will bust your ass back to boot."

Ashley rolled her eyes, mouth curling into a smile, before the gurgling stopped.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The turian councillor glared at the human stalking up towards the petitioner's podium. "Commander Shepard. So nice of you to join us… 20 minutes behind schedule. Do you humans even know what a chrono is?"

"How original," Shepard snapped. "My apologies. Next time I'll be sure to let the assassin on my ass know I have a date with a group of politicians. Who knows, he may decide that's a better way to collect the bounty."

"Commander!" Four indignant voices rang out in unison, but Shepard just continued glaring at the turian defiantly.

Sparatus jabbed a talon in her direction. "Know your place, human, you're addressing the Citadel Council."

"1 out of 10… I could drink alphabet soup and shit out a threat better than that, _Councillor_. As it so happens, I have a gravely-wounded member of my team I need to get back to. So could we please fast-forward past all the "humans are stupid" and "show me respect I didn't earn" to the part where we do what we came here to do."

"Commander Shepard, I understand your concern for your men, but I remind you that you are in the Council chambers. There is a certain decorum..."

"Councillor Tevos," Shepard barked, pointedly ignoring the reprimand. "I came to present evidence on the Geth attack on Eden Prime and the involvement of a turian named Saren. Evidence presented. Udina, they're all yours. Enjoy each other's _delightful_ company." Whirling, she stalked away, before a cold voice stopped her in her tracks.

"I resent these accusations. Nihlus was a fellow Spectre… and a friend."

Shepard turned slowly to the source of the voice, fixing it with a glower. It had come from a ridiculously large hologram off to the left. In her fury, she had noticed but not registered it as part of the proceedings. She studied it intently, sneering as she took in every ugly detail. "Saren. What a pity you couldn't be here in person. I know of a fist that is just dying to meet your ugly face."

Saren looked at Shepard disparagingly. "You must be the incompetent human who let the beacon get destroyed… Captain Anderson's little protégé. It goes some way towards explaining what an abject failure you are."

"I'd call you a smartass, but that kind of requires you to be smart, turian. So, I'll just settle with ass. I know you destroyed the beacon, just as I know you're covering it up."

"Shifting the blame just like your mentor… he really has taught you well." He sighed dramatically, addressing the Council before Shepard could retort. "The humans are wasting your time, Councillors, and mine."

"We have the testimony of the dockworker!" Udina spluttered, activating his omni-tool and bringing up the video recording.

"Ambassador, one addled, terrified human is hardly proof that a Council Spectre was involved on Eden Prime, or have you forgotten that C-Sec was unable to find any evidence supporting your claim? And, Captain Anderson, if you even think about mentioning your lapdog's "vision" again," Sparatus punctuated his words with a dramatic pair of air quotes, "I will personally have you barred from the Council chambers."

The Salarian Councilor, Valern, spoke before anyone's tempers could get the better of them. "Do the humans have anything else to add before we make our decision?"

"Seeing as you all seem to be possessed by retarded ghosts, I don't really see the point. Make your decision, but I will be back with enough proof to crucify this fucking clown. Then maybe I'll stick around to hear you pass your judgement."

Without waiting for a response, Shepard stalked away from the podium.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Chora's Den. Anderson had an old contact here, some worthless drunk named Harkin. Shepard had checked in with the Normandy, but apparently Chakwas had sealed the med bay, refusing to communicate with anyone until her job was done. Shepard had left Kaidan with strict orders not to budge from the mess area, and to call her the instant an update was available. Now, as she scanned the dingy nightclub for her target, she was almost tempted by a strong drink. Or ten. Two meetings with politicians in a day flavoured with a dash of assassin would do that to any sane person.

"Hello, beautiful. Why don't you come here and sit that lovely ass down besides old Harkin."

Shepard smiled sweetly. "Well hello, ugly. You must be the wingman." Harkin blinked, at a loss for words. "Aww, isn't that sweet… I can almost hear the fucking gears grinding inside your airy skull."

Harkin leered at her, before a lewd grin crossed his face. "Sassy." Licking his lips, he reached for her behind.

In an instant, his hand was yanked forward. Losing his balance, he fell towards the floor, his downward acceleration halted by the knee which slammed into his face, breaking his nose. Grabbing his hair, Shepard jerked his head to face her. "I'm not in the mood for a battle of wits with someone who has none, shit-for-brains. So listen up and listen good. I need to find a C-Sec agent named Garrus Vakarian. You're going to tell me how."

Blood was pouring from his nostrils, running over his chin and soaking his shirt. "Vakarian? You crazy shits deserve each..." His retort was interrupted by a yell as Shepard wrenched his broken nose to the side. "The clinic! French doc! Michel! Ow! Stop!"

Shepard shot him a disgusted look before shoving him back into a chair. "Clean yourself up. You're a fucking disgrace."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard's gun was in her hand as soon as the doors to Dr Michel's clinic opened. Some stupid merc had grabbed her by the neck, his gun pointed at her skull. Flanking him on either side, another two cretins had their sights trained on her, mouths agape like fucking fish at her blood-stained armour. Shepard was getting seriously pissed at people aiming their guns at her. _For fucks' sake, is one day of fucking shore leave where I'm not getting motherfucking shot at really too much to ask? Fucking wankers._

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a turian crouched behind a medigel dispenser, pistol drawn. Without shifting her gaze from the thug threatening the doctor, she spoke evenly and slowly. "Let her go, you stupid fuck, and maybe you won't be shampooing your balls with your saliva."

"P-put your gun down! I'll shoot her, I swear!"

"You really are as fucking thick as you look, aren't you? Listen to me, you dumb ass fuck. You kill her, I kill you. Yes, it really is as simple as that." The thug's weapon hand faltered for a minute; that was all the turian needed. Popping out of cover, he fired his weapon, mandibles flickering in a smirk as brains decorated the wall behind. Without even bothering with biotics, Shepard lazily capped the other two staring fools, before holstering her weapon.

"Garrus Vakarian?" She asked, ignoring the shaken doctor, who looked perfectly fine but had slid into a sit by the divider in the room.

"Ah, Commander Shepard. You took your own sweet time seeking me out. Glad you finally realised you needed me."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "You give yourself too much credit, Vakarian. I don't need _you_ so much as your information."

"And why would I give you that?"

"Don't bullshit me, Vakarian. I overheard you arguing with your Executor outside the Council chambers. I know you want the donkeyfucker as much, maybe even more, than I do. So how about we pretend we've done the obligatory tango, and you tell me what the fuck you know."

Garrus eyed her warily, before seeming to come to a decision. "Fine, but I'm coming with you."

"Are you now…"

"I most certainly am, Commander. If you want my information, I'm coming."

"Fine, as long as you don't expect me to protect your scrawny turkey ass when dumb ass fucks are shooting at it."

Garrus' translator had bugged out at the word "turkey", but from what he had heard from the Commander, it was probably just another human swear word of complete insignificance. "I can handle myself, Commander," he said thinly. "I got word that a quarian kid has some kind of audio evidence linking Saren to the Geth attack on Eden Prime. She's supposed to have set up a meet with the Shadow Broker through one of his agents, though word is the agent's been bought by Saren. Piece of scum named Fist, owns a pitiful excuse for a nightclub called Chora's Den. He would be my next stop, if I were you."

"Fist? What a fucking dumb thing to call yourself. This, I'm gonna enjoy."

Garrus shrugged. "Dr Michel, stay here. C-Sec is on their way. They'll take your statement and make sure you're safe before accompanying you to the hospital." He glanced back at Shepard. "Lead the way, Commander. I'm keen to see if there's any truth to the stories about you."

Shepard flashed him an evil grin. "Oh they're true, Vakarian. But only if you're reading the ones about me ripping people's hearts out and deep-frying them in their own blood."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Garrus' jaw hung open as he surveyed the wanton destruction around him. Almost two dozen mercs put down in under 30 seconds. He knew she was good, but _damn_…. He had managed to snipe about half a dozen before lowering his rifle in amusement as the hurricane that was Shepard tore through the hapless idiots. His particular favourite had to have been the sequence where she charged towards a merc, literally ripped out his trachea, and then used it like a throwing knife to adorn another's skull. Hot on its heels in second place was probably the one where she had somersaulted over a merc, grabbed his head, then swung him around viciously, breaking his neck and using his legs to fracture the skull of another at the same time. Garrus would have been impressed even if it had been a krogan charging around wreaking the havoc.

Now, they were crouched at the entry to the inner club. Shepard signalled for him to stay down, before reaching her arm out and tapping the door open.

"S-stay b-back! I- I'll shoot!" A high-pitched voice squealed like a stuck pyjak from somewhere within the room.

Shepard, sans helmet, leaned out, before rolling her eyes. "For the love of motherfucking…" not even bothering to stick to cover, she strode towards the sound of the voice, completely oblivious to the gun being waved in her direction. The kid was practically screaming in terror, shouting empty threats, as the blood-spattered, slender woman bore down on him. Garrus flickered his mandibles in amusement, although he kept his scope trained on the unfortunate kid's head. _What a comical sight_.

"Kid, the grown-ups want to talk, so get your ass out of here before I decide to make you part of that conversation."

"B-but F-Fist! H-he'll k-kill m-me! D-DON'T M-MOVE!"

Shepard sighed, almost painfully, before reaching over and yanking the pistol from the boy's terrified hands. Clicking the safety off, she casually took aim and fired, a crater appearing in the wall right next to the boy's cheek; close enough for it to heat his skin, but otherwise harmless. _Damn, that's a fine shot_. Shepard smiled patiently, as if addressing a school kid.

"And you don't think _I_ will?"

The boy was cowering now, whimpering. If Garrus had a nose per se, it would have wrinkled at the pungent smell which suddenly filled the room. Shepard jerked her head towards the door, ungently shoving her boot, literally, in the kid's ass. "Now. Before I change my fucking mind."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard hated bullies. They were cowards, the lot of them. This Fist stank to hell and back... making a goddamn kid a meat shield just to buy himself two seconds? They weren't fucking amateurs for crying out loud. As she crouched by the door to his office, she made sure the turian was out of the line of fire before slapping the doorway open. A torrent of gunfire immediately whizzed past, and Shepard sighed. _How bloody cliché. Why the fuck do the last pieces of scum always have fucking turrets to guard them?_ She listened for a while, mentally noting its pattern of fire, the calibre of the bullets in the wall. The moment the reloading mechanism engaged, she vanished, appearing beside the turret and out of its field of view. Yanking at it viciously with a biotic pull, she tore it from the wall; enough to swing it around, but not enough to sever its power connection. Then, she spun to her left, turret in tow, just as the magazine clicked into place. A hail of sparks and the clanking of metal punctuated the spluttering of the second turret, before, fists on fire, she crushed the useless piece of tin in her hands.

Fist was staring at her in shock, almost forgetting about the gun he held in his own hand. She took full advantage. In an instant, her pistol had snapped up, a shot ringing out. Fist squealed, grabbing his shoulder as his gun clattered to the ground. Shepard crossed the distance to him in three large strides, grabbing him roughly by the collar and throwing him against the wall.

"The quarian. Where. Is. She."

"D-don't k-kill m-me! I I have credits!"

Shepard sighed, digging her finger into the bullet hole "I don't like to fucking..."

"Put him down." Her threat was interrupted by an angry krogan standing in front of the doorway. He was bleeding from a couple of sites, presumably where Vakarian had shot him. _Vakarian_. She shot a glance in his direction, vaguely relieved to see him glowering at the krogan, gun still trained warily on him. For his part, the krogan merely looked irritated, as if he had been bitten by an ant. His shotgun dangled lazily in his hand, but he had not yet raised it.

"And who the fuck are you?" Shepard snarled, forearm digging harder into Fists' throat, her free hand subtly shifting so her pistol was aimed at the krogan's eye.

"Urdnot Wrex. You're messing with my bounty, human."

"This worthless motherfucker?" Shepard's face twisted into a menacing grin, before she turned back to face the whimpering thug. "Awww, look who found some friends. So, you worthless piece of shit, tell me where the quarian is before I hand you over to that big ugly fuck over there."

"S-she's m-meeting s-some o-of S-saren's agents... in t-the alleyw-way b-behind t-the club! P-please..."

"_When_?" Shepard's snarl was punctuated by a teeth-chattering rattle against the wall.

"A-any m-moment n-now."

Shepard glared at the cowering fool before stepping back and flinging him carelessly at Wrex's feet. "All yours, ugly."

"W-wait! Y-you s-said…"

"I said _before_ I hand you over to that big ugly fuck."

Shepard smirked as Wrex's shotgun blast silenced Fist's squealing; it was only making her headache worse. "I was wondering when the fuck you'd get your ugly ass in gear."


	12. Chapter 12: Spectre

**A/N: thank you everyone for your kind words of encouragement. Motivating myself to pack is hard enough without being distracted by this newfound writing hobby, damnit! Please keep it coming :)**

**Oh, and, if you can't remember who the character in section 2 is, take a peek at chapter 9, first bit. And… Shepard's a bit out of breath from the last chapter, so there isn't much baddie-gutting in this chapter. Sorry! On the plus side, something you asked for, Theodur, and… oh well you'll just have to wait and see ;)**

* * *

Earth. The home world and capital of humanity, the planet all Systems Alliance men and women are sworn to protect. Its sprawling vistas and dreaming spires of glass and steel are the envy of even the asari. Wealth from the colonies has allowed industry, commerce and art to flourish, inspired by the beauty of the lush arcologies from which they spring. The perfectly-controlled environmental systems mitigate the violent weather, producing balanced day-night cycles, azure skies, temperatures of late spring and the warm glow of sunshine all year round.

But no one sees outside the utopian megacities, beyond the furthest reaches of their artificial ecological systems. No one wants to, especially not the Alliance parliament. Here, the sky is blackened, even in the day; the rays from the sun labour to pierce the cataract formed by debris from early space development efforts. The darkness is frequently punctuated by precipitous flashes of lightning and claps of thunder, the accompanying storm relentlessly thrashing against the meagre shelters of the billions who live here. Even when the tempest abates, few venture outside for long; the smog is suffocating, and the ground is littered with trash and all manner of human and animal excrement in various stages of decay.

The only reason why anyone would choose to leave the cities for the slums is anonymity. Here, the law is stunted. Police patrols are scarce, and it is all too easy for one to melt into the sea of gaunt, desperate faces. The anarchy nourishes the growth of numerous gangs, and wars between factions abound. With an endless supply of foot soldiers, none can claim victory. Conversely, few have ever been wiped out. It is a bleak and desolate picture which has been permanently etched into the canvas of Earth.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Ariadne sat on the ground, completely oblivious to the damp, decaying floorboards underneath. Her knees were half-drawn, her back slumped against the odd assortment of crates which doubled as her bed. Slowly, her hand travelled to the pendant around her neck. Unclasping it with practiced ease, she stared at it sadly before closing her eyes and brushing it against her lips. For a long moment, the howling of the wind and the clattering of rain against the alloy roof disappeared as she lost herself in her memories and her sorrow.

As she opened her eyes, she glanced around to ensure she was completely alone, before depressing the locket's hidden release. Gingerly, she separated the two halves as they popped apart, before running her thumb over the photograph held within. It was a candid of a young woman, dark hair tied into a ponytail. She was looking off-camera at something she must have held very dear; her eyes were soft, almost unfocussed in their happiness, and the corners of her mouth were upturned in a tender smile. Time had not been kind to the photo – its colours were fading and its edges were frayed. Ariadne's thumb lingered over the picture's eyes. As if in stubborn defiance, their emerald sheen remained as vibrant as she remembered in her mind's eye.

A tear fell onto the photo, and she hurriedly wiped it away. "Jess…" she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

A sharp rap on the door startled her. Hastily, she snapped the locket shut, stuffing it back inside her shirt. Sniffing quietly and roughly scrubbing a hand over her eyes, she cleared her throat. "Come in," she called, not bothering to turn her head towards the door.

"Miss Naxos. Your brother asked that I inform you of Selvin's failure. The drell is dead."

Ariadne closed her eyes, feeling her racing heart start to slow.

"Miss Naxos?"

Ariadne let the man sweat as she willed away the feeling of relief. "Have Stirling shot," she said coldly. "We have no use for men who can't even find a reliable assassin."

"Very well, Miss Naxos," he paused before continuing. "Your brother asked me to bring you to him."

Finally, she turned her head, fixing the man with a glare. "I will be there shortly. Tell Finch I can find my own way to him."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Wrex was bored of the Citadel and all the banal mercenary work he had been hired to do. Yes, killing soft, stupid, whimpering fools like Fist was doing a favour to the universe, but he needed something more… stimulating. He was a krogan battlemaster, after all. He stowed his shotgun, looking disinterestedly at the human who was standing across from him, arms folded. Shepard. He had heard stories about her on his travels and he had to admit, his interest was piqued. Just seeing a soft human female in a "blood rage" – _Wraith always did like to exaggerate_ – would be entertainment enough to last a few years. Now, here she was. He was not sure what to think of her– he was in a grumpy mood, and he had no doubt it showed. She had called him "ugly" four times to his face, and was therefore either very stupid or suicidal. _Or she's a female krogan in disguise_, he thought with an inward chuckle.

"So, ugly, you gonna keep blocking the fucking doorway, or do I have to move you myself?"

_Five times. Human's got a quad. _"I'd like to see you try, human." Ignoring the wicked grin which had appeared on her face, he jerked his head at the carnage outside. "Seems like good fun follows you like a hungry varren, human."

Shepard lifted her chin, that annoying grin still plastered on her face. "You jealous, ugly?" When Wrex grunted in annoyance, her grin only widened. "Sounds to me like you want to join the playgroup."

_Even _human_ females talk this much?_ "I don't _play_, human," Wrex growled.

Shepard raised an eyebrow, before sauntering past him. "Whatever, ugly. I have a quarian that needs rescuing. Should be a fuckton of fun."

She laughed as he watched her, before following, almost reluctantly.

"Name's Shepard."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Tali wrung her hands anxiously as she paced. The alleyway was too quiet. She would have preferred the hustle and bustle of an open space in the wards, but she was not exactly in a position to make demands. The Shadow Broker had offered her sanctuary, and she had already had enough near-death experiences to last a lifetime. She shuddered as the memory of the first time she had truly been hurt on her pilgrimage returned to her – polonium rounds _and_ a suit rupture! If not for Dr Michel…

Nervously, she looked around. She could not afford to get distracted by her thoughts – _or be so trusting_. The Shadow Broker was late, and she was too scared to stay here alone for much longer. _Footsteps_. Looking towards the sound, her mind started whirling as she recognised the species – _turian_._ The Shadow Broker's been around for far too long for him to be a turian. They're too short-lived_. She was on the verge of running, when the turian spoke.

"Did you bring it?"

"Where's the Shadow Broker? Where's Fist?" Tali felt a chill as the turian's talons touched her arm, running up to her helmet, as if making to remove it. Angrily, she swatted it away. "Deal's off."

As she turned, her wrist was grabbed roughly. "Come now, little one. Don't you want to find out what life is _really_ like?"

Alarmed, Tali glanced around. Two salarians had emerged from behind some storage crates, pistols trained on her. _ Remember what Kal'Reegar taught you._ Twisting away suddenly, she grabbed a grenade from her belt, flinging it at the salarians. Surprised, the turian's grip lightened a little; that was all Tali needed as she wrenched her arm away and dove behind cover. Activating her omni-tool, she frantically began keying in some numbers, hoping she would be able to overload the turian's weapon before he got too close.

"There you are, you little pyjak. I was going to show you a good time and make it a quick death, but now I'm going to enjoy –"

Tali blinked as the turian's head jerked back violently.

"Your time in hell, you stupid fuck."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard crouched down beside the quarian, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You ok?" When she said nothing, Shepard ducked her head, trying to make eye contact before she realised it was an exercise in futility.

"Hey… you're safe with us, alright?" She smirked as the quarian nodded slowly, gesturing to her two companions. "Besides… even dumb criminal fucks aren't stupid enough to mess with big ugly and C-Sec over there. C'mon." She stood, offering the quarian her hand, which was grasped after a moment's hesitation.

When the quarian was standing, she again reached over and patted her lightly on the shoulder. "Name's Shepard. Broody over there is Wrex... the one with the stick up his ass is Garrus."

The quarian fiddled with the hands, as if trying to come to a decision. Finally, she looked up. "T-thank you, for saving my life. My name is Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."

Again, a smirk. "What a fucking mouthful, Tali. Come on. Let's get you some place safe and something to eat. You look famished."

"B-but you can't even see me!"

Shepard laughed as she led the way. "Girl's got a way of knowing things."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Ashley opened her eyes wearily as the med bay doors opened with their tell-tale swoosh. Chakwas had worked her magic, and she felt like she could actually breathe normally again. She stiffened a little when she recognised the figure who had entered.

"Commander. Didn't expect to see you here, ma'am."

She was surprised when Shepard said nothing. From what she could tell, the woman always seemed to have some sort of expletive-laden smartass quip to hand. Then, Shepard pulled up a chair and sat down, her chillingly-piercing eyes fixed on Ashley, a concerned expression on her face. Now, Ashley was starting to worry. The commander angry, she could handle. But… troubled?

"Ma'am?"

"Shepard," came the quiet reply. Ashley blinked, then realised her jaw was agape, shutting it quickly. "We're off-duty, Chief. It's Shepard."

"Well, uh, Shepard, if you insist on making me feel uncomfortable, you can call me Ash." Ashley smirked as Shepard opened her mouth to retort, before seeming to change her mind. "Who are you, and what did you do to my hard-ass of an XO?"

Shepard shot her a wry look, before a sardonic grin danced across her face. "Just because you're sitting there all fucking pretty and bandaged up doesn't mean you're safe, Williams. I'm not known for playing fair."

"Touché Madame XO… or should I say… skipper?"

Shepard winced, a dark expression crossing her face. _That's more like it_. "You heard, huh."

"Hell yeah, skipper. Me and just about every human that isn't still living in a cave."

"It's bullshit," Shepard spat angrily. "Anderson did _not_ deserve to be side-lined by that fucking sycophant. All for what? Just so the fucker could go down in history as the ambassador who negotiated humanity's entry into the Spectres. Don't even get me started on the Spectres. Bag of fucking limp dicks."

Ashley grinned. "Uh, Shepard… you just called yourself a fucking limp dick."

Shepard blinked, before shooting her a baleful look. "Make a habit of those smartass comebacks, _Ash_, and you'll be joining Alenko scrubbing the floor with a fucking toothbrush."

"Alenko's doing _what_? Oh this, I gotta see."

"Don't worry," Shepard said dryly. "He'll be doing it for a while yet."

"Can I ask why?"

"Let's just say he had an unhealthy obsession with my ass…" She glared as Ashley suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. "And yours," she said, sitting back with a smug look as Ash choked on her own laughter, an incredulous look crossing her face. Before she could think of something to say, Shepard was speaking again.

"Ash…" she paused, and that same look of concern crossed her face. _Oh shit. Here's where she tells me I'm not good enough and she's sending me ground-side again…_ "About the drell –" _Oh_.

"Shepard, as far as I'm concerned, you saved my life. Yeah, you could probably have been a bit gentler, maybe even warned me, but you and I both know if you hadn't done what you did, I'd probably be dead."

A strange look crossed Shepard's face, before it was almost instantly schooled. _Jesus, is she relieved?_

Shepard cleared her throat, before grinning and winking. "A bit fucking presumptuous, Ash, but I'll let it slide in light of your wounds, which are clearly making you delirious."

"Admit it, Shepard. You care about us," Ashley teased.

Shepard only laughed as she strode out the door. "C'mon, Williams, get your ass out of bed. You have a new duty to attend to."

_Does she open up to anyone?_

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Kaidan looked up as the doors to the med bay opened. His neck was aching and, despite the cool internal climate of the Normandy, his forehead was damp with sweat. The commander had not been kidding. The moment she had returned from the Citadel, she had ordered Joker to Therum, before handing him a toothbrush and wordlessly tilting her head towards the kitchen area. When he groaned and looked at her pleadingly, she had merely flashed one of those evil grins, before calling for the krogan over the intercom. Wrex was even grumpier than he had imagined the krogan species to be, and his disposition only slightly improved when Shepard informed him that he would get to be Kaidan's slave driver while she got things squared away and checked up on Ash.

"I think you missed a spot, human." Wrex chuckled as he "accidentally" spilt some of that vile, bitter, human drink Shepard had handed him. Kaidan shot him a dirty look, which only prompted him to spill more of his coffee.

"Floor's not going to clean itself, Alenko." Shepard's amused voice rang out from behind him. She was sitting on one of the benches, leaning back against the table. He blinked when he saw Ashley sitting beside her, looking a little pale, but highly entertained nonetheless.

"Uh, ma'am, won't you be needing help on Therum?"

Ashley and Shepard looked at each other before both snickered in amusement. _Since when did those two become friends?_

"No thank you, Kaidan, although it was _so_ sweet of you to offer. Wrex, head down to the shuttle bay and get some rest. I'll be needing you when we arrive. Tell Vakarian he's coming, too." Kaidan sighed with relief. Shepard stood, remnants of a smirk still visible on her face. "Alenko, I've found you a new task master. You take orders from her until I say so."

Kaidan groaned as Ashley's face broke out into a very wide grin.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard entered her new quarters, glancing around warily. When she had left Ashley and Kaidan to their antics in the mess, she had reflexively turned towards her old quarters near the starboard side of the ship. Only when Kaidan cleared his throat, raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly at the captain's quarters did she stop herself. _I shouldn't be here._ She had almost felt guilty opening the door, as if she were entering Anderson's room without first announcing herself with a knock. She had also been extremely hesitant to step inside, but, keenly aware of the two pairs of eyes trained on her, had done so without missing a beat.

Now, as the door slid shut behind her, she found herself bathed in darkness. _Hello, old friend_. Stepping forwards, she ran a hand over the desk, mentally sighing at the stack of datapads which were waiting for her like eager children. _Some things never change… goddamn paperwork_. She smirked, then fought a flash of anger, as she thought of Anderson reacting in exactly the same way. _Except, he's going to have a fuckload more of it now thanks to you_.

When Udina had broken the news, she had barely been able to contain her fury. She had refused to take command of the Normandy, even threatening to tell the Council to take their Spectre status and use it to propel those sticks even further up their own asses. Anderson had shaken his head with a smile, placing his hand on her shoulder, telling her he would not have the Normandy in anyone else's hands but hers. He had told her the story of how he and Saren had met and worked together a long time ago, how he had been considered for Spectre status. He had been passed over on the back of a scathing report from Saren – he just was not prepared to make the sacrifices Saren deemed necessary.

Shepard did not give a damn that Anderson was passed over for the Spectres. Hell, she did not give a damn about the fucking galactic super-cops to begin with. That was a pathetic excuse for being relegated to a desk job; it was all in the fucking past anyway. She _would not_ be the reason for it. Anderson was having none of it, though, going so far as to issue her a direct order to get her ass on board and depart for Therum immediately. There was some kind of asari scientist there who was the daughter (or some other close relative) of Matriach Benezia, whom Tali's evidence had identified as being in league with Saren. Neither Anderson nor Udina had known if this scientist – Dr Liara T'Soni – was aware of her mother's involvement in Saren's plans, but either way, she was too important an asset to pass over.

Sighing, she plopped down onto the bed, scrubbing both hands over her face. It had been a while since she had gotten some proper rest, and given they had a potentially-nasty mission in a few hours, it would be reckless – _even by your crazy standards_ – not to try and get some rack time. Vapidly, she also thought she should get her injuries looked at. Some of her ribs were definitely re-broken, and the analgesic effect of the medigel was starting to wear off. _Prancing around a volcanic world with an unstable shoulder probably isn't a fucking brilliant idea either_. She half-sat, before deciding it could wait a few hours. Chakwas would only confine her to the med bay again given the chance.

Her thoughts drifted to her new crew members. She snorted softly as she recalled how she had enlisted the krogan's help. _Promise a shitload of skull-bashing fun… hook, line and sinker_. She was not quite sure why she wanted it in the first place, but then again, if they were wading into all-out war with a crazy ex-Spectre and a fuckton of Geth, why not have the ugly fucker along? Krogan were tough sons of bitches, and she sensed the static of biotic energy from Wrex the moment he entered the room. _Walking biotic tank_. She smirked as a ridiculous image of a Mako farting singularities from its thrusters came to mind.

Then, there was Garrus. The turian wannabe badass vigilante. She actually kind of liked his complete disregard for red tape and authority. It reminded her of… well… her. She sensed there was something more than bureaucratic frustration driving all that, though, and would probably have to find out what it was before it bit her in the ass. At least the guy could shoot. Plus, he claimed he could calibrate their weapons to gain an added 4.87% accuracy. Doubtful, but hey, some calibrations were better than none.

Finally, there was Tali. She had and would never admit this to anyone, but she had a soft spot for the downtrodden. The quarians were treated like animals by most "civilized" races, all by virtue of the fact that a few hundred years ago, their ancestors made a stupid mistake. The injustice and resulting discrimination were all too familiar, and it made Shepard's blood boil. Tali was just a kid, but she was smart as hell, and wanted to prove herself and her people by helping in the fight against the Geth. Shepard was not about to say no to a dedicated techie for field assignments – if anything it was an area they were distinctly deficient. Also, she found herself strangely attached to the quarian's wide-eyed fascination with, well… everything, and her unbridled exuberance.

She started to think about Therum and the mission there when she felt a sudden tiredness come over her. Reaching over to set her alarm, she surrendered to sleep without even bothering to change.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara could feel her lungs burning in her chest as she ran deeper into the ruins. She had not had enough time to grab her pistol, something she was now chiding herself for as she felt herself tiring. Her biotics would not hold out much longer. Pausing behind a dark crevice, she forced herself to catch her breath silently, while surveying the deserted excavation site around her. The Protheans were distinctly utilitarian in their design; nothing was placed without purpose. The ruins that she had studied had shown little sign of an appreciation for the finer aspects of life, although she had to admit, she found their practicality and simplicity… alluring.

_Concentrate, Liara!_ Again, she rebuked herself as her thoughts wandered to the civilization she had been fascinated by for so long. She had not quite figured out what the purpose of these particular ruins was, although she suspected they might, at some point, have served as a prison of sorts. There was a central elevator which she surmised was a unified entry point or connector – it was difficult to tell if the original structure had been built underground, or if time had just buried it. From here, she envisaged prisoners being registered, their belongings collected and identification confirmed, before they were taken to their cells. Then, they would have – _wait. Their cells!_

How could she have been so dense! The barriers were amongst the first things she had discovered in these ruins. She had seen them and attempted to bypass them, but to no avail. Neither her biotics nor an entire clip from her pistol had even caused so much as a shimmer. Beyond the barriers, she had seen some input panels which she hypothesized must control them somehow. Granted, that did render her theory that this was a prison less likely, after all, who would put the controls to a cell door within the cell? And then there was… _Goddess, T'Soni, if you don't stop this, there won't be a Liara to research the Protheans!_

Shaking her head, she tried to remember which of the "cells" had had their barriers deactivated. Just as she recalled where the nearest one was, she heard the unmistakable chatter of the synthetics who had been dogging her. She had no idea why or what they wanted with her, but the fact that they had entered with assault rifles was enough for her not to want to find out. Quietening her breathing, she poked her head out of cover, quickly ducking back when she registered four separate light sources.

She took a deep breath, concentrating. She would only have one shot at this – even then, she was so tired she doubted she could gather the energy to make it count. Although it took longer than she would have liked, her fist was eventually bathed in that comforting blue fire. Knowing the synthetics would spot the light emanating from it, she quickly flung the singularity towards them. Pausing only to check that they were, indeed haplessly suspended in the air, she broke into a sprint.

"Get back here, you little pyjak!" The roar frightened her; from the sound of the voice, it belonged to a krogan. _That_, she certainly did not have the energy to lift, let alone fight. She turned her head to confirm her suspicions, not daring to ease the pounding of her feet on the ground as she did so. Her eyes widened as she registered a bolt of blue headed her way. _Goddess, a battlemaster?_ Unconsciously, she swatted her arm, relief flooding her when her own energy collided with the incoming missile. The unstable reaction veered off to one side, detonating and fortunately for her, taking out the synthetics suspended in the singularity.

She jumped as she heard the harsh thunder of a shotgun blast, only moderately comforted by the distance between her and the krogan. Just then, her target came into view. Not slowing down to turn, she skidded into the cell, grabbing hold of the console to stop herself. Frantically depressing buttons in a haphazard order – she did not know what they did, after all – she felt her heart rise in her throat as she spotted the krogan bearing down on her, weapon primed.

Her eyes widened as her fingers flew over the holographic interface. Seeing as it was to no avail, she raised her right arm, concentrating all her will and putting all her remaining energy into one last attack. Her stomach twisted as the krogan batted it away as if it were nothing more than an insect. He flashed her a menacing grin, his own fist alight as he flung his arm forwards. _Goddess, what did I do to – _

Her thoughts were cut short as she was suddenly flung forwards with her limbs outstretched, and she was surprised to feel no pain when she felt her momentum stop abruptly. Slowly, she opened her tightly screwed eyes a little, before they widened of their own accord. In front of her, a barrier was shimmering, the angry krogan just a finger's breadth away from it. She winced as he raised his weapon and fired, only relaxing when the barrier absorbed the blast without so much as a flicker. Feeling herself calm down a bit, she started to survey her surroundings, and her current predicament. She was in some sort of stasis field, held suspended in the air and completely unable to move. _Fascinating! Maybe this was a prison after all. This field would explain why the control console is within the cell! But… if the Protheans suspended the prisoners as I am now, why would they have needed the barrier curtains? Maybe they were – _

"I will find a way to get in there, you useless piece of varren meat. And then you will wish you'd surrendered when you were given the chance."

She felt her fear return and her idle musings desert her as the krogan's angry words sunk in.

Suddenly, she was very afraid.


	13. Chapter 13: Celere ad Conservationem

**A/N: soooo… sorry if the last chapter felt rushed in certain areas. Three reasons: (1) Liara; (2) Liara; and (3) Liara. Uh, kidding… (2) Shep needed to get to Tali quickly, she couldn't afford to waste time bickering or fist-fighting Wrex. (3) I really couldn't think of how to accept the Spectre position without Shep telling Sparatus / Udina to stick their heads up each other's' arses :) **

**Also – no update tomorrow, got to traipse across the pond… Ha. Ha. Stop cheering. Maybe Sunday / Monday. :) **

**Anyway, celere ad conservationem, or, swiftly to the rescue!**

* * *

Shepard groaned as her alarm chimed softly. Stubbornly, she squeezed the pillow tighter over her head with one arm, while fumbling for the cursed chrono with the other. Finally, her fingers wrapped around it, finding the snooze button with practiced ease. Mornings were the one thing she hated about the military. Long days, physical exertion, piss-poor excuses for food, hell, even near-death experiences she could do, but mornings… urgh. Why the military had such a fucking obsession with early starts was beyond her. All too soon, her snooze time was up, and the damn thing was wailing again. With a frustrated sigh, she snatched it off the bedside table, shutting it off. She had barely slept six hours, but that would have to do; they would be arriving in the Artemis Tau cluster in a few hours, and she still needed to do her chores. She coughed to herself. _Uh, I mean, pay the doc a visit_.

Amused (and mildly disgusted) to find herself in the previous day's garb; she quickly stripped off her clothes, tossing them carelessly into the sanitizer. The shower was a welcome balm, and she ran the water so hot her skin was soon angry and red. Towelling off quickly, she changed into a fresh set of uniform before exiting her quarters.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The mess hall was dimly-lit; it was 0500 ship time, and most of the crew were still asleep. The few that were awake were at their posts in the CIC or down in engineering, so the mess was mercifully quiet. Garrus sat by himself, eyeing the packaged paste in front of him warily. He was unsure of whether or not he should attempt to eat it – on the one hand, he was ravenous; on the other, he was uncertain if the "turian staple" was indeed safe for consumption. The last thing he wanted was to be stranded on Therum in the middle of a fire fight without anywhere to… evacuate.

He looked up at the unmistakable swoosh of a door opening. The figure that emerged did not look happy, wordlessly heading straight for one of the machines on the counter. A bitter aroma filed the air, and Garrus' mandibles twitched in mild agitation. He did not know what this "coffee" the humans drank so much of was, but it certainly did not smell pleasant. And their breath after a cup… his highly-tuned senses were saturated enough as it was.

"You gonna eat that shit, Vakarian?" Garrus' reverie was interrupted as the Commander sat herself down across from him, _three_ cups of the strongest-smelling brew Garrus had ever had the misfortune of encountering in hand.

"Good morning, Commander," he gestured to her odd choice of nourishment. "Err… are you going to eat anything?"

"Fucking hate mornings, Garrus. This…" she stroked her mugs in an oddly tender manner, "this is a recipe for instant human… add coffee."

Garrus blinked as she drained the two cups without another word. She shook her head, eyes widening, before lifting her chin towards his unopened food. "Eat up, Turk. It's safe. Benefit of shared bathrooms… we take extreme care to avoid… hot sloppies." She winked as she stood, third cup in hand. "And it's Shepard."

Garrus' jaw was slack – he simply was not following. He had trouble understanding her on the best of days but turk? Hot sloppies? He cleared his throat as he tentatively unwrapped his food. "Er… Shepard. Hot sloppies?"

Shepard laughed as she disappeared up the stairs.

"Flaming liquid shit, Vakarian," she called down. "Flaming liquid shit."

_Ah_.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard sat at the wheel of the Mako, idly rubbing the shoulder Chakwas had stabilised. The doctor had not been happy that her handiwork had been so swiftly ruined, and had threatened to confine Shepard to the med bay till her injuries were fully healed. Shepard had winked, laughed, and slapped her a little too hard on the back. "Gotta earn your pay, doc," as she vanished before any angry retort could come her way.

Joker had dropped them a few klicks from some sort of strange energy signature; his best guess was that was where the asari was doing her research… no other scans showed up another even remotely viable location. Therum itself was about as pretty as, well… Wrex. _Ugly fucker_, she thought with amused affection, as she eyed his grumpy reflection. The massive krogan was squashed into the rear of the Mako, and he did not look the least bit tickled. Briefly, she wondered how he would manage to lever himself out of his predicament, before mentally slapping herself. Therum was a volcanic world covered in lava. One wrong turn, and the Mako was toast.

"Commander, any chance you could slow down, or drive in a straight line? It's hard to aim this turret!" Garrus' voice had a tone of anxiety to it as he called down to her.

Shepard only chuckled as she instantly swerved left to avoid a lava pool which had suddenly appeared in front of them. "Man the fuck up, Vakarian!"

Her mirth dissipated as a signature suddenly lit up the infrared display. "Garrus! One bogey, 750 metres and closing."

"I see them!"

"Wrex, on the scanners. Garrus, light it the fuck up when ready."

"With pleasure."

Shepard grinned as she floored the pedal, ignoring Garrus' shout of annoyance.

"300," Wrex growled.

"Shepard, slow down! We'll be too close for cannon fire in 100 metres!"

"Don't get your fucking knickers in a twist, Turk, I got this."

"_WHAT?_"

Shepard only laughed as she willed the Mako closer. The Geth armature was firing now, and she was swerving like a drunk to dodge its plasma energy bursts.

"Shepard, you are never driving again!"

She slammed her foot on the brakes just as the Mako approached the side of the heavy, right before yanking the steering wheel with such force that the tank nearly tipped over, coming to a stop under the machine. She grinned as she saw the thing try and bend its head under its legs to get a shot off, to no avail.

"All yours, Vakarian."

She sat back, her grin widening at the sound of turret fire tearing into the hapless Geth's belly.

"Next time, I get the gun," Wrex rumbled.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard hopped out of the Mako, happy to be out of the cramped space. They had blown up about a dozen more armatures before arriving at the strange energy signature, which appeared to be some sort of mine. She raised an eyebrow as the Mako shuddered, catching a glimpse of blue as Wrex popped out.

"You humans make things too small," he growled.

Garrus, for his part, looked a little off-colour, his mandibles working away furiously as he staggered out. "I meant what I said, Shepard. I am never getting in a vehicle with you at the wheel again."

Shepard snorted, tossing him his helmet. "Hide your ugly mug and let's get to work."

When everyone was dusted off and had their weapons ready, Shepard jerked her head towards the narrow path which had forced them to abandon the Mako. She and Garrus pressed against the rocks flanking the opening of the trail, whilst Wrex hung back a little. Poking her head round, she noted a few scattered Geth patrols. _Nothing too difficult_.

"Shepard," Garrus murmured. She glanced at him from behind her faceplate, eyebrow raised. "Want to make this interesting?"

Shepard could almost hear his throaty chuckle, only tilting her head to the side in response. "No biotics," Garrus continued. "Only if you have to – that means injury or life-threatening situations. Loser buys dinner next time we're on the Citadel."

An excited grin danced across Shepard's face, unseen by either of her companions. "You're on, Turkey."

Without waiting for further acknowledgement, she unshipped her sniper rifle, darting into cover behind a rock just inside the opening of the path. She raised her weapon, finger hovering over the trigger as she waited for the first patrol to enter her crosshairs. As it did so, she depressed the trigger, only to blink as its head exploded in a puddle of white goo. She shot the chortling Garrus a baleful look.

"I believe that one was mine, Shepard."

"You looked like you needed the head start," she retorted, before grinning at the synthetics that had started sweeping the area. Picking up a rock, she flung it over to the left, lining the little fuckers up in her sights, but completely unreachable for Garrus – unless of course, he was to stick his head into her line of fire. She laughed as she picked off the remaining five Geth in quick succession.

"5 – 1, Turk."

Without waiting for acknowledgement, they were soon neck-to-neck as both dashed forward, eager to be the first to peg the next patrol. Garrus ducked into cover, but Shepard had always been a bit reckless. "Wrex!" She barked, not stopping her run. "Get your ugly butt in gear!"

Her shout had attracted the attention of the nearby patrols; exactly how she wanted it. She ducked into a roll as they opened fire, smirking as she heard Wrex roar and begin to charge. _That's my boy_, she thought, as bullets bounced off his barrier. Coming out of her roll, she continued her forward momentum, swapping her sniper for her shotgun without breaking a stride. As Wrex lowered his shoulder, Shepard dove into a skid, four shots ringing out in quick succession. Four bodies crumpled to the ground, Wrex's charge causing another four to collapse.

As her skid came to a halt, Shepard quickly brought her knees to her chest, before flinging her legs upwards and away from her body, jumping to her feet. At the same time, she reloaded her shotgun. She knew she was in the way of Garrus' shot; exactly how she wanted it. Quickly, she shot the two geth on the ground that were still moving, before throwing her shotgun with as much force as she could muster at the remaining trooper. It hit its head with a satisfying clunk, and it stood rooted for a few seconds. _Damn if it doesn't look stunned_. Chuckling, Shepard unshipped her pistol, pegging the sucker right in the middle of its blinking flashlight.

"I believe that's 12 – 1, Vakarian," she called.

Garrus stood with a huff. "The ones Wrex helped you with don't count. And it's 10 – 4, or do human children not learn how to count?" He gestured at the remnants of the second patrol off to the right.

Shepard laughed as she picked up her shotgun, before slapping a very grumpy Wrex on the back. "Alright, Turkey. 10 – 4. But I think ugly wants to play now."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard hated missions which involved going underground. She was not claustrophobic per se, but cramped, enclosed spaces only held memories she had no joy for. This particular mine on Therum was no different. The excavators who had initially set it up had designed it with the single purpose of going in and out. A single walkway snaked along at a sharp incline, and there was barely enough clearance for her to stand upright. Tunnelling efforts were expensive; not only did the equipment eat up a significant amount of the project budget, but structural integrity also had to be taken into account. Too big a shaft, and the entire structure might collapse onto itself. At times like these, she was glad to be of average height; she shuddered to think of how uncomfortable Garrus and Wrex must be. At least the incline meant that they should all be able to stand relatively erect on the way out…

The fact that the tunnel was meant to be a mere connector from the surface to the actual dig site also meant that it was sparsely equipped with the environmental regulators which usually festooned such sites. Shepard could almost feel the lava bubbling away within the walls of the tunnel. The air within was sweltering, and her hard suit's internal climate control was barely coping. Only a few seconds in, and her forehead was already drenched in sweat. Vapidly, she reached out to touch one of the walls which were so rudely encroaching on her personal space, only pulling her hand back when she heard the tell-tale sizzle of melting plastic.

Shepard tried to peer down the long corridor, but the lighting was barely adequate enough to see past her own gun. Vaguely, she noted the plastic hand rails which she assumed were meant to guide researchers to the dig site, hence saving on the power needed to light the corridor. She was not about to give their presence away by turning on her flashlight, although she suspected the geth may have some sort of infra-red detection systems in addition to their rudimentary ocular ones. No one, as far as she knew, was completely aware of how the geth perceived the world around them. It would be a motherfucking neutron bomb in their arsenal if they did.

"Wrex, barrier," she ordered softly. On the off-chance the geth saw them coming before they knew they were there, she did not want their shields overloaded unnecessarily. The krogan grunted. As he did so, a shimmering curtain appeared in front of the party. "Bet's on hold, Turk. This could get ugly." She saw Garrus nod out of the corner of his eye, before he swapped his sniper rifle for an assault rifle.

"Can't see for spirits. Anyway, poor excuse, Shepard. You're just worried I'll catch up and surpass you."

Shepard snorted softly as she took point. "Last I checked, Turk, it was 23 – 11. I'd be tempted to call that a fucking unassailable lead."

They moved quickly but cautiously down the ramp, Shepard's assault rifle sweeping back and forth as she tried to make out shapes in the shadows. Suddenly, she spotted four flashes of light in the distance. "Incoming! Get down!" She yelled, as she dove forward, throwing up her own barrier to reinforce Wrex's. Despite their combined efforts, she swore she felt her teeth rattle as four rockets almost simultaneously impacted, throwing her backwards. She winced as her back struck the ramp behind her, her still-fragile ribs complaining bitterly. _At least they're still in one piece_.

Not giving herself time to catch her breath, she sprang to her feet, immediately erecting another barrier. This one had the benefit of being an intended rather than reflexive channel of energy; she hoped she would fare better under the next barrage. Pausing only to yank the dazed Garrus to his feet, she took off down the rampbehind Wrex, who was already charging ahead with a roar.

"Fucking walking tanks," she cursed, her voice a mix of envy and amusement. Wrex's shotgun blast roared through the cramped space, the echoes reverberating. _That's going to make it slightly more difficult to count the fucking shots later_. She could not be certain if he had successfully pegged whatever had shot at them; not only were they, by her estimates, too far away for an accurate shot, they had appeared to be shooting from some sort of elevated position. She had a vague idea of where they were, but needed another discharge flash to be certain.

As if in mocking answer to her silent prayer, four flashes lit up the tunnel again. _Got you, you stupid tin can fucks_. Without diverting any energy from the barrier in front of them, she thrust a singularity at the location of the flashes. As she did so, she grit her teeth as she braced for the impact of the rockets. They slammed into the barrier, and she felt her feet almost sliding back up the incline as she leaned forward, her body nearly horizontal, pushing against the powerful propulsion systems. _Come on you fucking pansy, this is piss easy compared to Eden Prime!_ With a roar, she pushed off the ramp with her legs, the physical motion amplifying her channelled energies through years of conditioning. The barrier surged forward, the rockets finally acquiescing as the entire lot detonated in mid-air.

Not forgetting about the fuckers suspended in the singularity, she immediately flung two projectiles towards the miniature black hole, smiling grimly as it detonated violently.

"Not bad, Shepard," Wrex boomed.

She shot him a dirty look. "Yeah, thanks so much for the fucking help, ugly. Here, a tip for your efforts." She laughed as she sent a soft throw his way… given the size of the thing, she might as well have been patting him on the shoulder.

She was not laughing quite so much when Wrex retaliated, sending her flying ungracefully onto her butt.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara looked up in wide-eyed fear as she heard the screeching and groaning of the elevator. That definitely did not sound like how it was supposed to, and she was worried that some sort of seismic activity might have disrupted the structural integrity of the elevator shaft. The pebbles crumbling from the ceiling beyond the barrier certainly did nothing to allay her fears.

She was not sure how long she had been trapped here. Initially, she had a decent idea as she mentally kept an approximate track of time. Now, however, in between her cycles of fitful sleep and adrenaline-fuelled alertness, she had no idea what time it was, let alone which day. When she first drifted off, she wondered at her ability to do so. She was in an immensely uncomfortable position, her limbs splayed as she was suspended in the air. Her muscles ached from being held in the same position for so long – she barely had enough purchase to tilt her head. At least she was not forced to rest on any particular point – that would doubtless have created some ugly pressure sores by now.

Then, there was the heat. When she had first arrived at the dig site, she had found the humidity an inconvenience, but bearable. Now, trapped within this barrier curtain, which seemed to be as good at containing energy as it was repelling it, the scorching heat was just about unbearable. Her entire face dripped with sweat, and she was pretty sure there was nary a dry spot on her clothes. That, and she was almost certain she smelled like a stray varren. And the thirst! Goddess, what she would not give for a drop of water right now. Her tongue was parched, and the dehydration was giving her a throbbing headache. She tried to distract herself with her theories about the structure she was in; she had come up with some new ideas, but even the excitement of proving those hypotheses was starting to wear thin in the face of the searing heat.

But… the elevator. Maybe someone was coming? The krogan had not returned since he had threatened to kill her; he was either planning something terrifying to get her out of there, or he had figured out that she would not last more than three days without water. Frantically, she tried to crane her neck (in vain, of course) and see around the corner of the cell as the tell-tale sound of gunfire erupted. She heard muffled yells – _thank the Goddess, they're not synthetics_ – but all she was really registering was a female voice repeatedly calling out "fuck!" in various different sentences and a multitude of tones. _Humans, maybe?_ Of all the races she had encountered, she had known only one to be so crass. Granted, she had had little interaction with them, but –

"Well hello, Monday." Her musings were abruptly interrupted by a careless drawl. She looked up blinking at the figure that stood beyond the barrier. It was a human, indeed, a woman who was armoured in an Alliance hard suit, which was emblazoned with a Commander's rank insignia and another Liara could barely make out, despite all her squinting. She was standing with her arms folded and head tilted to one side, helmet cradled in her elbow. There was a smirk on her lips, but Liara could not be sure if it was an amused or sadistic one. She said nothing, instead peering at Liara with that strange expression on her face. _Goddess, is this some kind of mirage?_

"H-hello? Can you hear me out there? I – I'm trapped… please… I need help!"

The woman snorted, her grin widening. "No shit, Monday. You get that PhD learning how to state the bleeding obvious?" Liara blinked. Maybe the heat had fried her translator. _Monday? Could obvious bleed? Maybe obvious was some sort of human animal?_ Her mind worked away furiously at how to respond, before the figure rudely interrupted her thoughts, snapping her fingers loudly. "Hey, mind in the fucking moment, ok?"

Now, Liara was convinced she was having a mirage. _Is she really talking about keeping my mind on… intimate matters? _The woman sighed. "Dr Liara T'Soni, I presume?"

"Y-yes… I – how did you know?"

The human shrugged, although her intense gaze belied her indifference. "Your mother is wanted by the Council for treason…" Liara's eyes widened as she started. _Mother? Treason? No… she wouldn't!_ "I thought you might be involved somehow."

Liara lunged viciously in vain against her unyielding restraints. "I am _not_ my mother," she spat, with a vehemence with surprised even herself.

She was surprised when the human laughed, holding up a hand. "Alright, jeez… take a fucking chill pill already." _A what?_ The woman jerked her chin towards Liara's body. "How'd you managed to truss yourself up like that?"

"I – I was running from a krogan and those synthetics. I thought I would be safe behind the barrier, but I… must have pressed the wrong button on that control panel behind me. I cannot move… please, you must help me get out."

"You're pretty trusting, Monday… how do you know I'm not here to kill you?"

Liara blinked. She had assumed… _could she really? No. Everything she's done… that would be completely illogical_. "I am trapped, not dense, Commander. Given that you killed those synthetics, you are evidently not trying to kill me. You are Alliance, and you mentioned my mother is wanted for treason. That means you either want to arrest or rescue me… either is preferable to this."

Again, the woman laughed. "Alright, smartass. How do I go about this rescue business?"

"There is a console behind me which can deactivate the curtain and my restraints. But… that is the problem. This is a Prothean security device. It is completely impervious to weapons fire and biotics. Those synthetics have been trying all kinds of things."

The woman grinned. "Get past the pretty curtain, press button. Got it. Piece of fucking cake."

Liara frowned. "But… the barrier –"

"Have a little faith, doc… have a little faith."

Before Liara could argue, the woman had disappeared.

_Do they really use cake in their joinings?_

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard was adequately convinced that the doctor knew nothing about her mother's activities. She had been cruel, telling her that her mother was wanted for treason without any sort of pre-amble. But she had needed to do so in order to gauge the girl's reaction. There had been genuine shock on her face, and the fervour with which she renounced her mother would have convinced Shepard in itself anyway. She turned away, considering how to get past the curtain. It was built into what looked to be a tower of prison cells. From the unshielded cells, she could see a central shaft, which appeared to contain an elevator of some sort. If only they could get into the cell directly below…. She turned to survey the area they had just cleared, and grinned happily when she saw the gigantic mining laser.

Wrex chuckled when he saw her expression. "I knew I liked you, human."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Wrex and Garrus look on, both distinctly unimpressed at the scene in front of them. Shepard was smirking as she sneaked up on the unsuspecting asari, helmet still in hand. She reached the console, noting the doctor still had not noticed her presence. Pausing only to inspect the buttons, she selected the one she needed, laughing as the asari was suddenly released with a yelp of surprise. _For the love of God, Shepard, have a heart_. With a sigh and a flick of her wrist, a soft wisp of biotic energy appeared under the asari, lowering her gently to the floor.

Shepard crouched down beside her. "You alright?"

"Y-yes b-but I – how did you get in here? And how did you know which buttons to press to release me?"

Shepard grinned. "Told you… piece of fucking cake. Mining laser did us a little favour. As for the buttons… well, isn't it obvious?"

She barely had time to register the look of befuddlement on Liara's face before the entire room started trembling. "The mining laser must have triggered some sort of seismic activity!" Liara's eyes were wide, her expression frantic. "We have to get out of here. The elevator… it links to the walkway leading outdoors."

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "Let's go."

They ran to the elevator, Shepard's fingers drumming impatiently as it crawled upwards. She made to put on her helmet, before seeming to change her mind. "Put this on," she instructed, as she thrust the helmet towards Liara.

"B-but Commander, I am not in a hard suit. There will be no seals, no point."

"The filtration systems are better than nothing," came the impatient reply. "Now do as I say before I come over there and screw the damn thing to your fucking head."

Liara was confused, but she was not about to argue. She took the helmet and put it on warily. It was surprisingly… snug, with a bittersweet aroma to its padding. The elevator finally came to a halt; the entire ground was shaking violently now, the flimsy walkway rattling with the tremors.

"Run!" Shepard yelled, shoving Liara forward roughly after the turian and the krogan. Taking off, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her, half dragging Liara along. The asari was exhausted and dehydrated, and it was showing. "T'Soni, move your fucking ass or I will hurl it myself!"

Although her lungs were burning from the heat and the rampant dust particles, Shepard nonetheless concentrated her energy on lightening Liara. She was coughing violently, barely aware of the missiles raining down which she was unconsciously swatting away. The noise was deafening without the dampeners of her helmet, and her face was drenched in sweat and grime. Then, a bright light appeared as Garrus or Wrex reached the entry to the mine, slamming it open. She raced forward, increasing her speed and Liara's as much as she dared. They were so close now, she could see Wrex and Garrus outside, Garrus doubled over in exhaustion, Wrex panting a little but otherwise his usual grumpy self.

Then, her eyes widened, tears streaming down her face as the dust relentlessly attacked her corneas. A gigantic beam of plasma energy was headed towards her party members.

"GET DOWN!" She yelled, as she flung a barrier in front of them, trying to push them away at the same time. But it was too little, too late. She saw Wrex erect his own barrier, before she felt herself pushing in vain against an unstoppable force. Despite putting all her energy into it, her barrier collapsed. Her heart stopped as she saw the gigantic explosion overwhelm Wrex's barrier, then both Garrus and Wrex flung back, their armour charred.

She had reached the door now, Liara in tow. As she turned to face the threat, she grabbed the exhausted asari's wrist, flinging her roughly over her head behind some cover. As she ran forwards, she ducked into a roll, in an attempt to avoid whatever it was that had taken out her teammates. She spotted some rocks which looked like they might be able to take the energy of the blast, darting behind them quickly as she unshipped her shotgun. Giving herself a moment to cough out all the dust and fumes she had inhaled, she gasped for air, listening, not daring to look around.

"Guess I owe you a portion of my bounty for picking up that piece of varren meat, human." She peeked between the crevices at the source of the voice. There was a krogan standing in the distance, his fists wreathed in blue. Discarded on the ground beside him was an M-920 Cain. _Fuck_._ Not a day in and already lost two crew members_. "Pity you won't be alive to collect."

"You stay up all night coming up with that one, you ugly pyjakfucker? Come and fucking get some!" With a bellow, she shot out of cover, charging towards the krogan, hurling missiles of biotic energy at him at the same time. He swatted them out of the way effortlessly, breaking into a charge of his own. Just when they were about to collide, Shepard snarled, channelling her energy into her legs as she leapt, somersaulting over the krogan. She landed on his back, scrambling with her legs and free hand as she tried to gain enough purchase to get a shot off.

She managed one before the krogan roared in pain, grasping her by her collar and flinging her to the ground, her shotgun flying away. The impact winded her, and she barked in pain. A coppery taste flooded her mouth as she realised the impact had caused her to bite down on her tongue. Spitting, she barely had time to react before the krogan hauled her up, grip tight around her neck. As she struggled against the suffocating force with her hands, she aimed two vicious kicks at his face. He swatted the first away easily, and she winced as she heard a crack.

Luckily, her second attempt made contact, the krogan howling as her boot dug into his eye. The distraction was enough to allow her to pry herself free, and she dropped to the ground, panting. Unwilling to give herself time to recover, she scampered to her feet, wrestling her boot knife free as she did so. She lunged towards the krogan, knife hand alight as she plunged the knife into its wounded eye. With her free hand, she unshipped her pistol, ramming it under the krogan's jaw and firing.

Unfortunately, the shots did not have the power to pierce his thick hide. As he recovered, he sent a fist into her unguarded abdomen with such force she lost her grip on her knife and went flying. She had barely sat up again before he was bearing down on her, her throws swatted away easily. She jumped to her feet, bracing herself for the impact. When it came, it felt like every bone in her body might break. It took all her will to generate enough energy to absorb the krogan's charge, and her limbs were starting to feel like lead. Still, she fought, aiming a ferocious kick at the butt of the knife sticking out from the krogan's eye, while throwing her fist at his face in a follow-through uppercut.

The jarring of the knife succeeded in stunning the krogan somewhat, and she had enough time to withdraw it before he came to his senses. In fury, he flung a throw at her, which she tried but could not deflect, her energy spent. As she crashed into the outcropping of rock behind her, she felt her ribs crack, her left shoulder re-shattering. She tried to stumble to her feet, her vision swimming, but her now fully-broken leg gave out from under her. Weakly, she reached for her assault rifle with her still-functioning hand, although she knew that attempting to fire it one-handed was as good as not firing at all.

As she struggled to lift the sights against the pain and exhaustion wracking her body, she was vaguely aware of her pelvis jerking back violently, and the sound of the krogan's gun discharging. Slumping, she lost her grip on her assault rifle, eyes fixed on the krogan as he aimed his weapon at her head.

"Finish it already, you stupid ugly fuck."

The krogan smiled menacingly as his finger twitched over the trigger.

"No!"

Suddenly, the krogan's head jerked brutally to one side, before he was flung viciously against some rocks. He barely had time to react, before he was suspended in the air. Another throw hit him, his weightlessness only increasing the magnitude of the impact. As he slumped to the floor, a sphere of energy hit him square in the chest, before a second swung in towards his head in a ferocious left hook. His head spun to an unnatural angle with the impact, before his body started warping with biotic energy. The savage assault only finished when a third throw was hurled at him, the resulting detonation spewing chunks of flesh, bone and viscera in all directions.

Shepard was barely conscious as she turned her gaze on the krogan's attacker. Liara had fallen to one knee, her energy spent as her dehydration and fatigue caught up to her. She looked up at Shepard, mouth open as if to say something, before her eyes rolled up into her head and she swooned to the ground.

Struggling against the blurred tendrils crawling all over her mind, Shepard opened a comm link.

"Normandy… need… extraction."

She never heard the reply, as darkness claimed her.


	14. Chapter 14: Doctor's Orders

**A/N: I find myself in need of a massive bit of loving. Landed in England to the welcoming embrace of grey skies and pissy rain (what's new…), then had to spend three hours trying to jump start my car (admittedly neglected for 10 weeks…). And my bicycle tyres are flat. **

_**Anyway…**_** moan over… what time is it? yeah, that's right, it's… fluff o'clock! So, if you're a fan of Shepard sitting on bad guys, you may want to sit this one out :) **

**Poor Shep… got her arse physically kicked last chapter. Now…**

**Also, I've been kinda mean to Kaidan (unintentionally), so here's a bit of the world from his eyes. Sorry if some jargon slipped in by mistake.**

* * *

Kaidan swung his legs onto the bed, leaning back into its gentle incline. He appreciated that Chakwas had not flattened it; like most people, he found the sight of doctors towering over him slightly intimidating. Chakwas' years of experience meant she was attuned to this, and, whenever possible, she always tried to keep herself at eye level with her patients. This was his third tour serving with her, and she was one of the finest doctors he had ever met. Given he spent at least a few hours a week under medical supervision, that was saying something.

The med bay's lights were dimmed, something he was immensely grateful for. He knew it made Chakwas' work slightly more difficult, but his L2 implant-associated migraines gave him an intense photophobia. He had felt one coming on a day or so ago, and had sought refuge in the silence of the med bay when the attack had started. The attacks were fairly stereotypical; the day before one, he would usually feel slightly nauseous and off-colour – not so much that he could not perform his duties, but enough for him to be off his food. Then, 10 – 30 minutes before the headache started, he would experience an aura.

Auras could be difficult to describe to people who had never experienced them. Compounding this difficulty was the fact that different people (with different medical conditions) could have incredibly varied experiences. They were almost never painful, but they could be unnerving and unpleasant. Some people felt a tingling sensation along their limbs; others had short periods of dysphasia – trouble with word finding or comprehension.

His aura was fairly typical for migraine sufferers (the 10 – 20% who had them, at least) – he had what doctors liked to term "fortification spectra", which was basically a fancy way of saying "seeing funny expanding shapes outlined by zig zag lines". The ones he saw were circles which expanded outwards and upwards from the bottom of his visual field, their leading edges jagged. They obscured areas of his visual field; that meant they were a liability in combat, and he always had to be alert to the possibility that a migraine might be coming on.

Eventually, the aura would resolve, and the headache that so many people associated with the term "migraine" would start. Unlike the typical band-like "tension headaches" that most people suffered, the headache of a migraine was throbbing, and usually confined to one side of the head. The pain usually made him feel sick to the stomach, and he frequently threw up during attacks unless there was a doctor on hand to give him some anti-emetics. Simple pain relief dulled the throbbing somewhat, but it never truly went away, and he would be damned before he took opiates. So, he weathered the pain, usually in the relative comfort of the closest med bay.

"How are you feeling, Kaidan?" Chakwas' usually clipped English accent was intentionally softened for his benefit as she handed him a second dose of medication.

"Better now, Dr Chakwas, thank you. I think the worst of it is over." Handing her back the glass of water, he smiled wistfully. "I should probably return to duty soon. Ashley is waiting like a vulture and I doubt the Commander would be impressed to find the shuttle bay still unscrubbed."

Chakwas chuckled softly. "Ah yes. Joker mentioned that. Somehow I think the Commander will let that slide in view of your current condition."

Kaidan laughed bitterly as he imagined Shepard's reaction to him snoozing away in the med bay whilst there was still floor space to be cleaned. "I doubt that, Dr Chakwas. Commander Shepard hates me. I'm pretty sure she doesn't trust me in the field, either."

"What could possibly make you say that?" Chakwas' expression was bemused, although a tiny smile played across her lips.

"On Eden Prime… I made too many mistakes. Training and keeping an eye on Richard was my responsibility, and I let him charge straight into the line of fire. My head wasn't in the game from that point on, and I think she knew it." He paused as he sighed, his eyes going unfocused. "Then, I disobeyed a direct order, got the beacon destroyed and the Commander injured… not forgetting that mishap with Joker."

Chakwas' smile widened as she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Kaidan, do you think the Commander is the type of person to waste her time or hide her opinions because someone's career could suffer for them?"

Kaidan scoffed. "Not a chance, doctor."

"Exactly. This is why Shepard most certainly does not hate you, and why she probably still trusts you, even if she may not go out of her way to show it. She could have called a mast, or asked Captain Anderson to, when you disobeyed her order on Eden Prime. Instead, she didn't even mention it in her report – and yes, I have read it. Not forgetting that if she didn't trust you, do you honestly think you'd still be here, at the head of the Normandy's marine detail? Shepard is the commanding officer now. If she thought you weren't up to the job, you and I both know you'd be sitting in a med bay on the Citadel, instead of this one."

"Yeah, I guess. But I still can't –"

"Doctor Chakwas!" Joker's hurried voice interrupted as the intercom cackled to life.

Chakwas eyed the speaker as if she were making eye contact with the man. "You couldn't call and wait for me to answer, Joker?"

Kaidan immediately knew something was wrong when Joker passed up the opportunity to make a smartass remark. "Better prep the med bay, Doc. Just got an evac request from the Commander and it didn't sound good. I can't hail anyone on their comms."

Chakwas' eyes narrowed. "Joker, please get Corporals Manning and James in here immediately. Kaidan, I suspect I will need your help – your field medic training is better than nothing."

Kaidan nodded, already standing and reaching for a pair of gloves.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Chakwas had seen a lot in her day, but this was grim, even by her standards. She stood in the doorway of the shuttle, surveying the scene in front of her even as they made to find a landing spot close by. She had initially anticipated a slew of wounded into the med bay, but when it became apparent that none of the shore party was conscious, let alone ambulatory, she had decided to gather all the necessary equipment in favour of emergency field treatment. It was far from ideal, but still safer than transporting unstable patients.

The air was thick with dust and smoke, the whipping winds only worsening the situation, fanning dying flames and smouldering embers. From what she could discern, four bodies lay scattered on the ground near the entrance to the mine. One, which looked to be the Commander, was slumped against an outcropping of rock just adjacent to the doorway. A few metres in front of her, an asari lay prone, one arm reaching in the Commander's direction, the other resting around her head. A helmet lay near her, already partially-buried in the swirling sands. A little ways off were two bodies which she presumed belonged to the turian and the krogan who had joined the crew the previous day. She was no expert on alien physiology, but the principles of emergency first aid were the same galaxy-wide – stabilise three systems in order of threat to life. Airway, breathing, circulation. ABC. That simple mantra was drummed into every medical student, and had been for the last few centuries. She could scarcely count the number of times they had gotten her through emergent situations in her younger years.

As she felt the shuttle begin its descent, she wondered who she should attend to first. _The one you have the highest chance of saving. _While Shepard was likely to be the most severely injured, she was also the only human. The shuttle landed, the marines on board instantly sweeping out to ensure the area was clear of hostiles. When Kaidan gestured to her, she immediately grabbed her trolley and disembarked, addressing her men as she did so.

"Kaidan, please attend to the asari. Manning, you're on the krogan. Jones, the turian. Stick to basics, ABC like you've been taught. I suspect all of them will need intubating for smoke inhalation. Don't hesitate to call for me if you hear any stridor, the airways can obstruct precipitously. 100% oxygen on everyone, please, and Hartmann's if their BP is low. Don't forget to check the bones for fractures and bleeds, especially the pelvis and femurs. Kaidan, if the asari shows signs of biotic exhaustion, give her Hartmann's and hypertonic saline. She will need potassium as well but leave that to me if so. Jones, remember that the turian cannot have any of our standard blood products. There is a container of dextro-based emergency supplies on the bottom shelf of this trolley. Questions?"

"No, ma'am," the marines replied.

"Alright, gentlemen, let's get to work."

Turning towards the commander, she sighed inwardly as she evaluated the mangled mess that was supposed to pass for a human. Quickly, she applied a cervical collar, before inserting a definitive airway and hooking it up to a canister of oxygen with practiced efficiency. She paused as she surveyed Shepard's injuries, immediately zeroing in on the gaping wound over her hip. _Shattered pelvis. Bloody hell._ Inserting a cannula, she started a bag of fluids, before gingerly applying a pelvic sling. A human could easily lose two litres of blood into the pelvic cavity from a fractured hip, and from Shepard's pulse and blood pressure, Chakwas estimated she had lost much more than that already.

_It's going to be a long night…_

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

_Three days later_

Shepard was gradually becoming aware of a steady, high-pitched beeping sound. It was fucking irritating. She groaned softly as she tried to shut it out, before becoming cognizant of the fact that the environment surrounding her tightly-shut eyes was brightly illuminated. _Hmph. Not asleep in my cabin, then._ Then, it all came back to her. Therum, the bet with Garrus, Wrex throwing her ungracefully onto her butt, rescuing the Liara, the fucking krogan… being rescued by Liara. _So… I'm either in the med bay, or, given that fucking annoying beeping, in hell._

"Good morning, Commander." _Ah. I think I'd rather be in hell_. Chakwas' clipped accent was being intentionally accentuated, probably to show how annoyed she was.

Reluctantly opening her eyes, she winced at the bright lights which assuaged them. "Mornin, doc," Shepard croaked in reply, her throat sore from a combination of dryness and the remnants of what she assumed was a recently-removed ET tube. "How're Garrus and Wrex? And the asari… Liara?"

"Fine," Chakwas said curtly, a hint of impatience in her voice.

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong, doc? I thought you'd be over the fucking moon I dropped in to join you for afternoon tea… even if it is a bit earl–"

"Shepard, are you bloody suicidal?"

Shepard blinked, both at the question and at Chakwas' use of what was, by the doctor's standards, an expletive. "Err… Doc, are you –"

"Twice in under a week, you've been pounding at death's door. Twice, you've shattered your shoulder, _three_ times you've fractured and re-fractured your poor ribs, now you've added a pelvis and a tibia to that list. Not to mention the ruptured spleen I had to remove, _and_ the perforated bowel I had to sew together. Your faecal matter… sorry, your shite – _curse number two… Jesus _– is not _nearly_ as glamorous as you'd like to think, I'll have you know. You've lost enough blood to feed Dracula for a month, and added enough grey hairs to my head to make me consider retirement!"

Shepard smirked. "Doc, your hair's already fucking –"

"Don't you start that with me, young lady. You are _not_ charming, intimidating or joking your way out of this. You are the commanding officer of this ship. You have a responsibility to the men and women under your command, and you _will_ listen to me. You are confined to the Normandy for one week. When we dock at the Citadel, you may disembark, but only to visit destinations _I _approve of, and only under Lieutenant Alenko's or Chief Williams' supervision."

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "Doc, if you fucking think you can –"

"That is an order, Commander. You will obey, or so help me, I will throw you in the brig and set the unlock code to randomly change every second."

Shepard growled menacingly, before opening her mouth to retort.

"Commander, I sense I am not getting through to you, so let me put this in terms you will appreciate. Do anything more physically challenging than typing up reports and I will inject you with enough psychotropics to have you permanently believing you are a drooling, incontinent, N7-armoured fairy indentured to Ambassador Udina's service."

Shepard's black expression of fury was suddenly replaced by one of horror as she considered the implications of Chakwas' threat. The doctor for her part, secretly very pleased with herself, stood with her arms folded, never taking her eyes off the Commander.

Finally, Shepard's glare softened, and that unnervingly-endearing smirk danced across her lips. "You could've at least signed me off the fucking paperwork, Doc."

Chakwas laughed, waving a hand dismissively in the air. "Remember what I said about Pavlovian conditioning, Commander. You married to your desk for a week with only Council reports to distract you is a sight I will most enjoy."

"You sure you're a doctor, Chakwas? Fucking Hippocratic Oath… do no harm?"

Chakwas shot her a dry look, which was quickly followed by an evil smirk. "I'll try being nicer… if you try being smarter, Commander."

Shepard's eyes widened. "Who the fuck are you, and what did you do to that lovely doctor who used to work here?"

"I think the question is, "what did Commander Shepard do to the lovely doctor who used to work here?" Now, get some rest… it's not like you're going anywhere anyway." Chakwas chuckled as she gestured to the full body cast Shepard's entire left side was cocooned in.

In her surprise at the doctor's verbal onslaught, Shepard had not had the opportunity to take stock of her predicament. Now, as she saw the contraption she was ensnared in, her eyes widened and her jaw went slack. "Is this really fucking necessary, Doc?"

"Yes," Chakwas replied dryly. "You won't be able to walk faster than a turtle stuck in peanut butter… and you certainly won't be able to hold a weapon."

Shepard groaned. "How long?"

Smirking, Chakwas only reached over to turn down the lights. "Sleep well, Commander."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

_A few days later_

Shepard opened the door to her quarters, entering gingerly and switching on the lights as she did so. It stuck her then that this was the first time she had seen her new room fully-illuminated; the last time she had been in here, she had just wanted to lie down in the darkness. As she looked around, her shoulders sagged at the enlarging pile of datapads. She had not completed any Alliance or Council reports since Eden Prime, and she still had all the Normandy's departmental reports to go through.

Running her good hand through her hair, she sighed as she plopped into her chair. Chakwas had kept her heavily sedated for almost a week since her fight with the krogan, probably to keep her from re-breaking anything. Still, she had refused to remove the cast, insisting it stay on "for another few days". Those next few days were going to drag on. At least she had something other than paperwork to do; although she had a good camaraderie going with her crew, she did not know as much about them as she would like. The down time would be good for that. She supposed she should check up on Garrus and Wrex – Chakwas had informed her that they had suffered bad concussions and some moderate to severe burns, but were otherwise fine. It appeared that her barrier, combined with Wrex's, had been strong enough to ward off the worst of the blast. Shepard had been incredulous at Chakwas' theory; the Cain was a motherfucker of a weapon. She knew her own strengths and weaknesses well – there was no way she had the power to ward off even a significant fraction of that blast. _Ugly's got fucking talent_, she admitted grudgingly.

Idly, her hands started opening drawers as her thoughts drifted towards Liara, exploring the new space available to her. She started and blinked when she saw the two bottles of Scotch whisky lying innocently in the top drawer. They were accompanied by a handwritten note, which was unsigned. All it said was: "You'll need it." _Anderson, you fucking god. _As she poured herself a good measure, she absently wondered how Anderson had found the time to obtain writing materials.

Just as she raised the glass to her lips, a sharp rap sounded on her door. "For fucks' sake," she breathed as she closed her eyes in frustration, willing the intruder away. Just when it seemed like they might have taken the hint, the knock repeated itself. Sighing in frustration, Shepard quickly drained her glass, before stowing the incriminating evidence.

"Come in!"

The door opened, and Ashley walked in, saluting sharply. "Ma'am, I hope I'm not disturbing anything."

Shepard gestured to the spare chair, shaking her head. "Am I going to have to fucking beat my name into you, Ash? What's up?"

"The ceiling." Ashley smirked as Shepard sighed and rolled her eyes, before her expression turned serious "Permission to speak freely?"

Arching an eyebrow, Shepard nodded warily, saying nothing.

"Shepard… I have concerns. About… the aliens. I mean, it's bad enough that we allow a turian, a krogan and a _quarian_ to roam our ship freely, but that asari? T'Soni? Ma'am, how do you know she isn't some sort of spy for Saren? Don't you think finding her so "helpless" and waiting to be rescued was just a bit too fortuitous?"

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "What do you suggest, Williams?"

"I think the aliens should be confined to the shuttle bay, Shepard. There's too much sensitive tech floating around engineering and the CIC. Even one glimpse could provide alien intelligence services with ammunition against us should it ever come to that. And that asari… she's currently confined to the storage room by the med bay and the mess, on XO Pressley's orders. I've ensured the crew keeps her at a distance. I suggest putting an armed detail outside her door round the clock. Better yet, throw her in the brig until we can interrogate her."

"What the fuck brought this on, Ash?"

Ashley blinked. "You… you don't think it prudent?"

"No, Ash, I do not. I know you were pretty banged up when most of the aliens came on board, but Jesus fucking Christ, have you even spoken to any of them?" When the chief made no move to answer, she continued. "Wrex doesn't give a rat's ass if the Normandy shits, flies or prances around in a pink tutu. All he's interested in is that it gets us to the next sorry piece of shit who needs to be skull fucked. Garrus wants Saren so bad, I doubt he'd listen if the turian hierarchy ordered him back. That, and are you forgetting the turians helped build this tin can? Why the fuck would they send someone to spy on something _they_ helped build? I might as well be accusing you of spying on the turians on behalf of the fucking Alliance.

"And Tali. She's a quarian for fucks' sakes. Almost every one of their bleeding laws revolves around the survivability and sustainability of the Migrant Fleet. _Of their ship_. And what the fuck do they need frigate stealth technology for anyway? Yes, they have frigates, but they fulfil internal security or flank guard roles, _not_ reconnaissance. Don't forget that the Migrant Fleet is the biggest fucking fleet in the galaxy. Even _if_ they managed to steal the Normandy's stealth technology and replicate it on a motherfucking Everest scale, it would be a white elephant. Sure, there'd be no fucking heat emissions, but any Tom, Dick or Harry would still see them coming a light year away."

"As for Liara…" she glared at Ashley, unable to fully explain to even herself why the thought of having to defend Liara to a crew member was making her so goddamn furious. "As she so succinctly put it, she is _not_ her mother. She could have let that krogan kill me, taken the chance to run, but she stuck around and saved my life – endangering her own in the process. Probably saved Garrus' and Wrex's, too. No doubt the krogan would have finished the job after he was done with me. So, _yeah_, at this point, I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. She's in the unfortunate position of being judged because of someone she happens to be fucking related to. Kind of reminds me of someone else… someone else seated right across from me."

Ashley shot up from her chair, her eyes flashing, although she held her tongue. Shepard, in turn, kept her icy glare on her, not backing down an inch. "Sit your fucking ass back down, Williams, or I will throw you into the chair myself and suspend you upside down from the ceiling."

Ashley hesitated for a moment; she almost seemed like she was going to disobey, before she reluctantly lowered herself into her seat. "You… you know, Commander?" She asked quietly.

"I'm not a fucking halfwit monkey, Williams. It barely takes an IQ of room temperature to work out your family history. You're a fucking good soldier, but because some politically-correct bureaucratic asswipe thinks we should send a fucktard message that 'humanity does not surrender', you've only had the shit assignments, never seen combat."

Ashley expression, which had seemed crestfallen when she realised the Commander had figured out who her grandfather was, now held a glimmer of hope. "So… you're not transferring me?"

"Fuck, no. Ash, even my imaginary friend thinks those fucking paper pushers at Alliance HQ have serious mental problems. And stop digging for fucking compliments. I've said it once, I hate repeating myself. But don't be a fucking hypocrite. You don't want others to judge you for your grandfather's surrender at Shanxi. So don't judge Liara for her mother's treason. Otherwise, you're just the same as those spineless fuckers who stuck you on Eden Prime."

Ashley was silent as she considered what the Commander had said, her expression unreadable. Finally, her features softened and she nodded as she stood. "I… thank you, Shepard. May I have leave to return to my post?"

Shepard nodded tiredly, gesturing to the door before smirking. "Rifles won't clean themselves."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Alright, Happy?"

Wrex looked up at the source of the drawl. Seeing Shepard, he scowled. "First Ugly, now Happy?"

"Well, seeing as you're always such a right ray of fucking sunshine…"

Wrex grunted, before gesturing at the Commander's oversized cast. "Don't you need a licence to pilot that?"

"Sit down and give your fucking brain a rest, Ugly… an elcor could come up with an insult better than that." Hearing Wrex's soft chuckle, she continued. "Anyway, I came to see if the burns made an improvement…" she peered at him closely, before smirking and shrugging.

"Nope."

"You just come here to act like a hungry pyjak, Shepard? Aren't there reports that need your attention?"

Shepard laughed, holding up her good hand. "Relax, Happy. I did actually come to say that was a pretty awesome barrier on Therum. One day, you are teaching me how you did that shit."

She blinked at Wrex's nonplussed look. "What?"

"Barrier wasn't mine."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara eyed the food in front of her, unable to entertain the thought of eating it. Dr Chakwas had brought it to her, kindly suggesting that she come and join her in the mess to eat it. Liara had refused, citing the need for continued recovery. In truth, she was terrified of facing the rest of the crew. She was not well-versed with the human countenance, but she could not shake the feeling that the crew of the Normandy harboured a deep mistrust of her, that they possibly resented her. One of them, Liara thought her name was Ashley, had even gone so far as to excuse herself from the mess hall when Liara had appeared. Liara could not blame them. After all…

Her eyes started stinging as the tears welled in them. Quickly, she clasped a trembling hand over her mouth in an attempt to muffle the harsh sob which escaped her.

"_Your mother is wanted for treason."_

Could the Commander's words really be true? In denial, she had accessed the extranet from the terminal Dr Chakwas had kindly loaned her, searching out evidence which would either refute or affirm Shepard's claims. Shepard. She had learnt her name from Dr Chakwas. Articles on her mother were numerous, but ones on her alleged involvement with Saren were scarce. Those that were available always mentioned Shepard, detailing how she was the first human Spectre. Some were scathing in their portrayal of the Commander, others less so. None had a distinctly positive spin on them. Liara knew better than to trust the media, but some of the reports were… disturbing. The most distressing to her had been the ones covering the events of Torfan, which claimed the Commander had executed unarmed prisoners, as well as ruthlessly (and, some argued, needlessly) sending three quarters of her unit to their deaths.

But… no. Liara could not really bring herself to believe the Commander was as evil as the reports made her out to be. She had saved her life at least three times on Therum alone, shown her kindness. Even not knowing whether she could be trusted, the Commander had insisted she take her helmet, taken on the krogan on her behalf while she cowered. Liara shuddered as she thought how much the dust and smoke inhalation must have weakened Shepard, and how she had suffered at the hands of that krogan. _Why would she help me? And what did she mean by – _

Liara's reverie was interrupted by a soft knock on her door. Self-consciously, she sniffed, wiping her eyes dry, hoping the darkness would hide the fact that she had been crying. Dr Chakwas would doubtless start fussing if she suspected something was wrong, and, right now, Liara just needed time to think. She opened the door absently, her eyes widening when she recognised the penetrating green eyes in the doorway.

"Commander! I – I… did not expect to see you awake, much less up and about. Humans possess a much less potent cellular regeneration system than…" seeing the Commander's raised eyebrow, her widened even further. "Not that I meant to insinuate your species is weak! I was just trying to say that your rehabilitation timeframe is inferior… no, no, that's even worse, I –"

Liara's frantic speech was interrupted by the Commander's chortle. "Calm the fuck down, Monday… jeez, you're like a fucking Duracell bunny on steroids."

Liara's jaw hung slack as she tried to interpret what Shepard had said and form a response which would not cause her further embarrassment. Her mind working furiously, she tried to buy herself time by gesturing to the interior of the room. "Please, Commander, come in. Have a seat." _Monday? _She had heard of bunnies from some of the other human archaeologists; apparently some humans kept them as pets. But… _does the Commander really want to make drug-addled love to a bunny?_ Come to think of it, the Commander seemed very obsessed with sexual intercourse. Humans were strange, indeed…

Liara cleared her throat, deciding that she should probably avoid asking the Commander about her bunny fantasies. "Commander, if I may…"

"… You may call me Shepard, Monday." _That word again_.

"Sh-shepard. What is the meaning of this word 'Monday'? Why do you call me that?"

Shepard blinked, almost as if she was considering the answer herself."Uh… you're blue… I guess… I always feel blue on a Monday… that's… that's a day of the week on Earth, how we tell time."

Liara noted the way the Commander's voice had softened dramatically at the word "feel", almost as if she did not want it to be heard. Additionally, there was a strange discolouration to her cheeks, and for once, her gaze had shifted away from Liara – it was now firmly fixed on the floor.

"I can stop if you don't like it," she mumbled.

Liara's eyes widened, worried that she had somehow offended her host. "No! I mean, it does not offend me, Shepard. I – I was just confused, that is all."

Shepard cleared her throat and straightened, her eyes snapping back towards Liara. When she spoke, her voice had returned to its normal volume. "So, _Monday_," she paused as an amused smirk danced across her lips. "That was some monkeyfucking shit you pulled on Therum." _Some what? Now she wants me to attempt joining with… "monkey" faeces? Goddess…_

"Earth to Dr T'Soni…" Liara jumped at the hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you ok, Liara?"

"Yes, Shepard, I am fine. I was just trying to understand the finer points of human conversation."

Shepard smirked. "There are no fine points, Monday… you're doing fine. I… I came by because I wanted to thank you for saving my life… and those of my squad mates. That barrier you erected in front of Garrus and Wrex was quite something, to absorb the brunt of the energy from a Cain."

Liara felt her cheeks heating. "It… it was nothing, Shepard. And I, too, owe you a debt for saving me."

"Guess that makes us even. How are you feeling, anyway?"

"I am fine, Shepard. Dr Chakwas was very professional. All I needed were adequate fluids and electrolytes. I had no physical injuries… as you did."

Shepard waved a hand, brushing off Liara's attempt to broach her physical state. She cleared her throat, then lifted her chin, as if coming to a decision. "Listen, I'm gathering everyone in the conference room at 0800 tomorrow. I'd like you to be there, please."

Liara blinked. "I… of course, Commander."

Shepard grinned, before rising and patting her on the shoulder. "I'd best be off, Liara, otherwise mummy Chakwas will be breathing fire down my neck and threatening to leave this cast on me for an extra day."

As she left, Liara became distinctly aware of her heart thundering in her chest.

_Goddess, what is happening to me?_


	15. Chapter 15: Crushed

**A/N: thank Her Majesty for bank holidays (and thanks everyone for the kind notes… especially, as usual, Theodur and thedeadflag)! Will *hopefully* get to update again tomorrow, but after that the schedule may get a bit erratic / the chapters shorter... hell hath no fury like work scorned. We'll have to see :)**

**Lastly… if you have a terrific memory for every side quest / conversation in ME, you'll know the appearance of one of the (admittedly very minor) characters later in this chapter is pointedly **_**not**_** cannon. Sorry if this irritates you!**

* * *

"Quarian staple". "Turian staple". From behind her tinted faceplate, Tali's eyes flickered to-and-fro between the two choices on offer. Every meal, she found herself confronted by the same dilemma, although she was not sure why she even bothered thinking about it. It was like asking her to choose between a central suit rupture and a romantic cuddle with a geth. At least Garrus had been kind enough to confirm the safety of both fares – he had understood that the… explosive consequences would be far more inconvenient for her (and the rest of the crew) than him. No doubt Chief Williams' hostility would only have increased if the bathrooms had to be sealed for Tali's exclusive use. She barely suppressed a giggle as she briefly considered secretly mixing a bit of her own food in with Ashley's. Wrex would be proud.

"H-hello…" Tali's musings were interrupted by a hesitant voice. Surprised, she turned, only to find herself face-to-face with an asari whose gaze immediately flicked to the floor, her cheeks darkening and fingers fumbling with her tunic. It was as if she was watching a returning pilgrim presenting a prospective captain with their gift. "I – I'm sorry… I didn't mean to interrupt… I –"

Tali was grateful the asari could not see the tickled expression her face wore. No doubt it would have sent her dashing back to that room she had confined herself to. The poor girl had no one to talk to and if there was anything Tali understood, it was a child's unrequited desire for approval from a parent. Shaking her head, she patted the asari on the shoulder, not surprised when the woman jumped at the contact.

"You must be Liara… I'm Tali. It gets boring eating breakfast by myself… would you join me?"

The asari somehow managed to look grateful and relieved at the same time, a small, timid smile crossing her lips. "I… that would be nice… thank you, Tali."

Tali smiled as she watched Liara turn to the counter, her anxiety resurfacing as she studied the identical trays with differing labels. Tentatively, she picked up the closest one. "Dr Chakwas always chose what I should eat… I –"

"Here, try this one, Liara." Asari and quarian both blinked as they recognised the owner of the voice; Tali had to consciously stop herself from asking if the pro-offered food was poisoned.

"Ch-chief W-williams! I… I am sorry, I –"

"Dr T'Soni, please, it's Ashley. You've got nothing to be sorry for, and I've been… unfair to you. Here. Dr Chakwas tells me asari can eat human food…" Ashley gestured to the plate in Liara's hand. "No human would eat that… it's like turkeys voting for Christmas. _This_ one… now this one is… well… let's just say it's the least likely to motivate you for a hunger strike."

As usual, Tali had no idea what the human was going on about, but by this point, she knew better than to ask for an explanation. They usually left her with more questions than answers. From Liara's befuddled expression and her slightly slack jaw, she was equally confused. Hesitantly, she placed her own tray back on the stack, before accepting Ashley's with a shy smile.

"Thank you, Ashley." For a while, Tali thought she was going to disappear back into the med bay. She was pleasantly surprised when the asari seemed to steel herself, looking the human in the eye. "Ashley… I am afraid I do not quite understand these sayings you humans have… would you explain some of them to me?"

The chief blinked, then laughed, practically dragging Liara to the tables in animated glee. Still shocked at Ashley's change in attitude, Tali stared after them a moment, before shaking her head and heading over to join them.

_Here we go…_

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard sipped her coffee and leaned against the back of her chair, drumming her fingers idly against the head rest. After repeated badgering and proof of exhausted entertainment in the form of a stack of completed reports, Chakwas had finally acquiesced and removed her cast. Her injuries had almost fully-healed, with only some residue stiffness remaining… nothing some time in the gym would not sort out. She was itching to get off the Normandy now – they had been docked at the Citadel for a while, but the crew remained on-board pending her orders.

She had arrived in the comm room 20 minutes ahead of schedule – it was the way she liked it. The silence allowed her to gather her thoughts, and being the first in always provided unique insights on crew dynamics – who arrived with whom, where individuals chose to sit, where they stood in relation to her and the door, etcetera etcetera. Vapidly, she massaged her temple, willing away the bothersome headache which had steadily been increasing in intensity and frequency since Eden Prime.

Her thoughts drifted as she tried to distract herself. The Council, predictably, had been more concerned with the destruction of the Prothean ruins on Therum than any leads she may have uncovered in her hunt for Saren. Sparatus, in particular, had questioned her every judgement, even going so far as to suggest that by refusing to turn T'Soni over to C-Sec, she was verging on treason. She had politely told him to listen to the sound of her giving a fuck what he thought, before cutting the comm.

Liara. Shepard was not entirely sure what to think of her. On the one hand, her inadvertent display of power on Therum made Shepard wary. Not only had she erected a barrier of sufficient strength to ward off the brunt of the force from a Cain, but she also had sufficient reserves following that to literally rip a krogan to shreds. Shepard had trained with asari and fought Eclipse warriors, but she had yet to come across such raw biotic power. She wondered if the asari's shy, bumbling nature was just a façade to get opponents to underestimate her; almost as quickly as the thought formed, Shepard dismissed it – unless she was an incredible actress, she was a bit too genuine to maintain such an elaborately-constructed mask. Besides, the way she started so blankly at Shepard's every word coupled with her eagerness to satisfy was strangely… adorable.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Glancing at her chrono, she was mildly surprised to see that almost all of her 20 minutes had passed. She watched as various crew members filed in. She noted with no small measure of astonishment how Ashley, one arm around Tali, the other around Liara, was talking animatedly to a very bemused but enraptured Liara. Tali's expression was, of course, unreadable, but, if her body language was anything to go by, she was entertained and mortified in equal parts. Her shoulders were quivering with laughter, even as she buried her shaking head in one palm. Kaidan stood in the doorway with the chief engineer, Greg Adams, and her XO, Charles Pressley, heatedly discussing a datapad and completely oblivious to the unlikely sight which had just passed him by. Eventually, all three nodded, and Kaidan walked into the room. Hot on his heels were Garrus and Wrex, who appeared to be comparing their recently-acquired battle scars in a strange battle of one-upmanship.

When everyone was seated, Shepard straightened, instantly quieting the room with her intense gaze and resounding silence. "Good morning. I never had the chance to carry out a mission debrief after Therum, so this meeting will have to suffice in its place. Unfortunately, we were unable to get much intel on that monkeyfucker we're chasing, but Captain Anderson has contacted me with something he'd like to discuss. Hopefully that will turn up a destination for us to head to.

"In the meantime, Dr T'Soni will remain on board the Normandy _as member of her crew_." As Shepard stressed the last phrase, she fixed every person in the room with her gaze, her tone brokering no argument. She paused to allow her words to sink in, before continuing. "She has exceptional biotic talent and I'm pretty sure she could ass fuck Sparatus with a krogan if she so desired. Plus, as I understand it, she's a fucking walking encyclopaedia on the Protheans, so we'll be needing her expertise."

Liara was blushing away furiously, eyeing the floor and all too aware of the eyes trained on her. However, the Commander's last statement seemed to have caught her attention, and she suddenly looked up. "I – I am sorry, Commander, but I do not understand… what does my knowledge of the Protheans have to do with all this?"

Shepard nodded, walking around her chair and sitting in it. She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees and hands clasped loosely. "Saren attacked Eden Prime to gain possession of a Prothean beacon. He failed, but the beacon was destroyed. Whether or not he accessed the fucking thing before he ran is unknown, but pigs will fucking fly before I believe he didn't. It's probable therefore that he was after the information held within.

"Before it was destroyed, the beacon… interacted with me, transferred some of the information it held into my brain. It's a fucked up mess, but from what I've been able to piece together, it's some kind of fucking warning against an invasion. Apparently, some fucking asswipes known as the Reapers want to make us their minions."

Shepard paused when she noticed that Liara's expression had changed from one of utter befuddlement to one of understanding. "Something you want to add, Monday?"

Hesitantly, Liara spoke up. "Y-yes. When we first met on Therum, I could not understand how you managed to figure out how to release me from my restraints. The console you used… all the menus and interfaces were in the Prothean language. The beacon… it must have transferred a knowledge of the Prothean language to you, in addition to whatever images you consciously saw. Fascinating! We always suspected that the Protheans were capable of instantaneous disseminated communication, but I never thought this could have been achieved through the use of the beacons… all this time, we thought they were merely data caches. But… why encode the Prothean language? Perhaps they were trying to…"

As Liara spoke about the Protheans, her confidence grew. Shepard noted that she was sitting up in her chair, her hands moving animatedly. She seemed completely oblivious to the people staring at her, or the looks of amusement Kaidan and Garrus were shooting each other. Shepard did not usually have any patience for rambling, choosing either to tune out the speaker, or, more often than not, interrupt them rudely. This time, however, she was surprised to find herself mesmerized by what Liara was saying; she was also mortified when she realised she was grinning like a kid at a fucking candy shop.

Mentally, she slapped herself. Clearing her throat, she quickly interrupted before anyone noticed her expression. "Liara, do you know anything about how or why the fuck the Protheans vanished?"

Liara blinked. "Th-there are many theories… it is what I have been researching for the past 50 years, but –"

"Jesus, fuck, 50? How old are you, exactly?" As if reading Shepard's mind, Ashley spoke, her jaw agape.

"I – I am not that old by asari standards… I am only 106… merely a –"

"Holy fuck, I hope I have a rack like that when I'm 106."

Shepard snorted as chuckles filled the room. Liara seemed to have gone a sickly shade of purple. "Williams, at 106 your tits are gonna sag so bad Santa'll mistake 'em for fucking Christmas stockings."

The chuckles degenerated into outright laughter, as Ashley blushed furiously, huffing away. Shepard let the levity linger a few seconds, before addressing Liara again. "So, Monday… think it's possible the Protheans were wiped out by the Reapers?"

Liara's brows knit as she considered this. "You interpret the beacon's message as a warning? Yes, the Protheans showed remarkable consideration towards younger, evolving species… I suppose if the Protheans couldn't save themselves, they would have focused their attention on…"

Her voice trailed off as she appeared to consider something. Instantly, her body language changed. Gone was the confidence and awe; instead, it was replaced by tentativeness and indecision. Shepard picked up on it instantly. "What's on your mind, Liara?"

"I… t-the Prothean beacon. All this time, we thought they were data banks… part of the reason was because they appeared only to interact with Prothean physiology. Others who tried to interact with the beacons were left foaming at the mouth, shrieking in agony and completely incoherent. For you to survive the data transfer with all your faculties intact and without any physical side-effects… you must be remarkably strong-willed, Commander."

Shepard's thoughts immediately shifted to her growing headaches, but she merely grunted and rolled her eyes. "The data's a fucking mess… I wouldn't exactly call the transfer a success."

"E-even so… asari are… more experienced with sorting out matters of the mind than other species. I – I have also studied the Protheans for years… it is possible that I could help you make sense of what you see."

Shepard's eyes narrowed instantly. "Give it to me straight, Monday. What the fuck are you on about?"

"D-do you know much about asari physiology, Commander? W-we… we are able to join our consciousness… our nervous systems to that of other individuals. In doing so… we… we see what the other wants us to see… and vice-versa. It is a fairly simple –"

Shepard was suddenly sitting very straight. "Everyone but Liara, you are dismissed. You are granted 12 hours of shore leave. Be ready to move your fucking asses at 2030."

When everyone had left, Shepard eyed Liara warily, all too aware of her worsening headache.

"Sh-shepard? I… I can –"

"Absolutely not, T'Soni. I know about the asari abilities. I don't know what kind of skullfuckery it involves, but I don't want anyone inside my fucking head."

She softened her voice and her gaze at Liara's obvious distress.

"Besides, Monday, what I've got in there… it will change you forever. You don't deserve that.

"No one does."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Shepard. Thanks for coming. Good to see you again, Gunnery Chief Williams. At ease, please, both of you. And… you must be Dr T'Soni." Anderson held out his hand, which Liara took after a second's hesitation. He gestured to the man standing next to him. "This is Rear Admiral Brian Kahoku. We have a… sensitive matter we were hoping you might assist us with."

Shepard nodded curtly. "Admiral. Dr T'Soni is a member of my crew. She can be trusted."

Kahoku looked distinctly unhappy at the asari's inclusion, but Shepard surmised he was either too desperate or in too much of a hurry to protest. "Commander, I require your assistance in locating some of my men who went MIA in the Sparta system. I would lead a team myself, but whatever they got into, someone at the top doesn't want us knowing about it. I got a cease and desist order from Alliance HQ, and someone in Udina's office petitioned the Council to declare the Sparta system temporarily off-limits to Council patrols. Something made-up bullshit about fragile trade negotiations between the Alliance and the batarians."

Shepard snorted. "As if we'd ever see eye to eye with the fucking batarians… we couldn't get our fucking heads that far up our own asses if we tried."

Anderson smirked. "Whatever this is, Shepard, it's big if it has got the brass willing to leave anyone behind. The media outcry alone if anyone found out…. Our hands are tied, but you're a Council Spectre…"

"Sir, I specialise in making fucking monkeys out politicians and paper-pushers… although I'm tempted to start charging for the plastic surgery." She paused, before fixing her gaze on Kahoku. "What exactly were the marines investigating?"

"A black ops agent by the name of Armistan Banes. We'd heard chatter he'd gone rogue, but were unable to get intel on what he was working on, or his exact wherabouts. Captain Price, who led the missing team, mentioned he'd found some connection between Banes and a doctor down in the wards… one Chloe Michel."

"From your report, you've come across her." Shepard nodded at Anderson's statement. "From what we can tell, Banes was blackmailing Dr Michel. Speak to her, see if you can't draw him out. I'd stake my life on him being involved in their disappearance, but, if he's a dead end, maybe the Normandy's long-range scanners will pick up some anomalies in the Sparta system."

Shepard nodded, saluting both men before turning on her heel and walking in the direction of the wards without another word.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara watched the Commander's heated, expletive-laden argument with Dr Michel, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Ashley's impromptu class on human vernacular – Commander Shepard's in particular – had been most enlightening. She was incredibly relieved when she realised that the Commander did not, in fact, have bizarre sexual fantasies involving cake, bunnies or faecal matter; she was merely, well, as Ashley had put it, "just Shepard".

There was more than just the Commander's lexicon, however. For some reason she could not quite put her finger on, Shepard kept creeping into her thoughts. She wanted to know more about her, but all she could find on the extranet were articles about her military career. Liara was not interested in that so much as Commander Shepard the person. She did not even know her first name. She could easily have found out by reading the personnel records she had dug up, but for some reason, she had yet to open the file. Some part of her felt like reading it would be an invasion of Shepard's privacy. Another almost… relished in the suspense. A small part of her kept thinking how good it would feel if one day, the Commander considered her enough of a friend to tell her of her own volition.

Liara thought back to the conversation she had had with the Commander the previous day. She had the feeling that Shepard had inadvertently shown her a side of herself other members of the crew had yet to see. The change in her entire visage when she explained the nickname she had given Liara was touching, and yet, it was gone in a flash. Liara hoped that she would see more of that side of Shepard. For that one, fleeting moment, there had been a vulnerability and raw emotion that had completely enraptured her.

And then Shepard had smiled at her – she could not remember the last time someone had done so just for the sake of smiling. She had gone out of her way to make Liara feel like a member of her team, to make sure that the others knew she could be trusted. Liara was immensely grateful to her and saw it as another step in what she thought was a blossoming friendship.

That had all come crashing down with the Commander's rejection. Liara admitted that the idea could appear strange to non-asari, but she had almost brought herself to believe that Shepard liked her enough to be willing to give it a try. _Don't be stupid… you're just a silly child, a boring archaeologist. Shepard is a highly-decorated soldier, a Spectre. What could she possibly see in you that would make her want to be your friend? Why would she ever trust you enough to – _

"Hey Monday, stop fantasizing about hot, erotic sex and move your fucking ass already. We've got a blackmailer to nail."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard felt her fury rising as she stalked towards Morlan, the salarian shopkeeper who was blackmailing Dr Michel. She had smelled a rat the moment Dr Michel had started becoming evasive about the nature of the blackmail. With some… gentle persuasion, however, the doctor had eventually revealed that she and Banes had collaborated on some sort of "Alliance" black ops project. Banes was studying some soldiers who had been gravelly-injured. Michel was not sure how they had received their injuries, or why they were not at an Alliance facility for treatment, but she had gone along with it anyway because of the credentials Banes had flashed. She had only spoken of the injuries in vague terms, saying they were horrific; when Shepard had pressed her, she had clammed up, almost as if her mind had unconsciously locked away the unpleasant memories.

Now, Banes was threatening to reveal her involvement in what was evidently criminal activity. Her involvement in human experimentation would be grounds for her licence to be revoked. Shepard did not really give a fuck if that happened, but the opportunity to catch Banes while making the exchange was one she could not really pass up. So, she had taken the medical supplies, which she assumed Banes needed to continue his experiments. Even if Morlan was the one in direct contact with Michel, he would have to meet Banes eventually. Shepard would just watch him closely till he did.

"Morlan. I'm here on behalf of Doctor –"

"You're not Dr Michel."

Shepard turned slowly towards the cold voice, her hand drifting towards her pistol. "Williams, clear the area. Get the civvies out of here, pronto."

As Williams swiftly ushered the crowd towards the upper markets, Shepard glared at the human standing in front of her. He was leaning against one of the far stalls, arms folded and a smug look on his face. He was flanked by four mercenaries, two asari and two krogan. All five were armed to the teeth, and Shepard sensed the static buzz of biotic energy emanating from the man and the asari.

"Armistan Banes, I presume."

"It seems you have me at a disadvantage, Commander…"

"Where the fuck are Kahoku's men?"

Banes shrugged, the smug look never faltering. "Whose men? Come now, Commander, did your parents not teach you any manners?"

"Keep talking, Banes, some fucking day you'll come up with something intelligent. Now. Tell me where the fuck those marines are, and maybe I won't beat you the fuck to death then skull fuck you with your own dick."

Banes snorted, gesturing to his party. "I'm not sure if you know how to count Commander, but we outnumber you 5 to 3. I'll even throw in this tip – three of us are exceptional biotics. So, as far as I'm concerned, you can kiss my left nut."

"Why, Banes, you only have one nut to kiss? Don't worry, I won't kiss it, I'll just rip it off and shave it clean with your fucking teeth." As she spoke, Shepard tilted her head slightly to the left. A nonchalant gesture, but Ashley understood its significance.

Banes sighed. "So be it, Commander. Alaya, please rid me of this inconvenience."

As he spoke, Ashley dove for Liara, flinging the both of them behind cover. Shepard charged forward, shotgun in hand and aimed for the face of one of the krogan mercs. With a jerk of her arm, his shield generator went flying viciously into the eye of the other krogan, right before his face exploded in a shower of blood and brains. Before the mercs could shift their aim to her new position, she was on the move, flashing towards the stunned krogan. She hit him with all the force she could muster, feeling him stagger under the impact. _Fucking tanks_.

She fired her shotgun at him, but suddenly, her aim was swatted away by a biotic projectile. Before she had time to turn, she found herself lifted and being flung against the far wall. As she concentrated her energy on opposing her own momentum, she saw Ashley pop out of cover to fire, sending Banes diving for cover and distracting one of the asari as she erected a barrier. Shepard's eyes widened as the krogan started charging towards Ashley; she was about to shift her attention from slowing herself to aiming a throw at the krogan when he suddenly stopped in mid-charge. As Shepard dropped herself to the floor, she saw Liara on one knee, face taut with concentration as she held the krogan in a stasis field.

"Williams! On the fucking meathead!"

Without waiting for a response, she jerked her arm backwards, pulling the distracted asari towards her and flinging her into a wall. Unshipping her assault rifle, she was about to unload the entire clip onto the slumped form when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw her squad mates' cover being lifted into the air, the asari Banes had called Alaya raising her weapon at the defenceless Liara.

Immediately, she switched targets, charging towards Alaya and ignoring the shots which were now ringing out from behind her. Her shields flared as a few of them impacted, but she did not dare slow down. She crashed into Alaya just as the overload warning started beeping, sending them both diving to the ground. With a roar, she drew back her fist, aiming a ferocious punch at Alaya's nose. Her punch was blocked, Alaya sending her flying the next instant with a burst of energy. Shepard only had the resources to erect a barrier against the sudden barrage of gunfire aimed at her – it took all her will to maintain it as she crashed into whatever the fuck was behind her. She barked in pain at the impact, grateful when Liara relieved the incoming gunfire with a throw of her own.

As Shepard scrambled to her feet, she saw the other asari lifting Ashley helplessly into the air. Her eyes widened as Banes sent a biotic projectile hurling towards her. A projectile of her own would not intercept it before it was in detonation radius. With a yell, she sent herself flying towards Ashley, shoving her out of the way just as she felt herself being thrown backwards with explosive force. She grit her teeth in anticipation of the impact, but was surprised when she found herself abruptly stopped in mid-air.

"T'Soni, get the fuck down!" Shepard roared as she saw Liara, back turned to the three hostiles, arms hugging the air as she countered the force of the detonation. Behind her, a dazed Ashley was clambering to her feet. Shepard concentrated her own energy on shoving Liara aside, but it was too little, too late. As she fell to the ground, she watched in horror as Alaya fired, her shots overloading Liara's shields almost instantaneously. The asari jerked violently as a shot hit her in the back, before Shepard's barrier absorbed the other incoming bullets.

"Williams, get T'Soni into cover!"

In fury, she raced towards Alaya, shotgun in hand. She flipped the weapon mid-charge, so that when she collided with the asari, the butt of the weapon rammed into her face, stunning her. As she clattered to the ground, Shepard swung the weapon brutally, satisfied when she heard the asari's skull crack under the force of the impact. Knowing she had less than a second before the other two weapons were aimed at her, she concentrated her power in her leg, viciously stomping on Alaya's face and smashing her brains all over the floor.

She ducked into an evasive roll just as the wall behind where she had been standing was riddled with bullets. She did not dare check on Ash or Liara; the two biotic hostiles had to be dealt with first.

"Help Shepard!" _Thank fuck_. Liara's voice was soft and weak, but Shepard was relieved to hear it. As she heard Ashley open fire on the other asari's position, she poked her head out, trying to take stock of the situation. Banes was still hiding, refusing to show his face. From where she was, she could just about see the asari pressed into some crates, waiting for a break in Ashley's gunfire. Smirking grimly, Shepard unshipped her sniper rifle and took aim. The unsuspecting asari's brains painted the wall, and her body slumped to the ground.

"Give it up, Banes, and maybe I won't gouge out your eyes and shove them up your fucking ass."

"I'd like to see you try, Shepard."

In an instant, Ashley was suspended in the air by a singularity, a throw projectile heading towards her. Popping out of cover, Shepard countered it with a missile of her own, before concentrating on yanking aside the crates Banes was hiding behind. As the crates were flung aside, Banes opened fire in Ashley's direction. Shepard barely had the time to drop the crates and erect a barrier in front of Ashley, before she felt herself hit square in the chest with another biotic missile.

Grunting as she impacted the wall, she nonetheless kept her barrier up, marking Banes' position as she scrambled to her feet. The moment Banes stopped to reload, she was moving. Ashley was still suspended in the singularity, but she was safe as long as Banes was not gunning for her. She crashed into him with the force of a freight train. He had erected a barrier in time, but the impact still sent him stumbling. With a roar, Shepard lunged at him, fist alight as she sent her fist crashing into his face. Without giving him time to recover, she immediately followed it up with a vicious uppercut, sending his head smashing into the crates behind.

Shepard leapt into a roundhouse kick, aiming to finish him off by breaking his neck. However, a lancing pain suddenly shot through her skull, staggering her and sending her to one knee. She grit her teeth and clutched at her head, trying to get up against the agony searing through her head. Her vision was alight with flashing colours, and she could barely see Banes recovering in front of her.

"Well, well, what have we here."

She struggled to her feet, reaching for her pistol even as her other hand tried to stop her skull from exploding. Before she could raise it, however, she felt herself flung backwards with ferocious force, a loud crack punctuating the air as her bones shattered. She could not even feel them breaking through the pain in her skull. She tried to see, but all that appeared amidst the flashing lights was an outline of a gun as Banes stood over her.

"I told you you were outnumbered."


	16. Chapter 16: Into the Belly of the Beast

**A/N: thanks for all the lovely notes, it's much appreciated. Please keep them coming :) M, I couldn't respond via PM as it was an anonymous review – don't know what happened to chapters 8 and 9, but it's been rectified now… thanks for bringing it to my attention!**

**Minor sexy business, segment 5. Also, fair warning, England believing it's in the southern hemisphere has sucked the cheer out of this chapter… it is ****very**** dark. Avoid segment 6 & 7 if you don't want to read the disturbing stuff. If you do read them, please see A/N at the bottom.**

**There probably won't be an update tomorrow… not sure when the next one will be up, but *hopefully* the weekend at the latest.**

* * *

His weapon still trained on the incapacitated Commander, Banes glanced over at her companions. The soldier was still helplessly suspended in his singularity, her expression one of utter fury. The asari was conscious but dazed; she was struggling forward on her belly, but she had also lost a lot of blood. Banes judged that her biotics were not a threat – she would not be able to concentrate enough through the pain and light-headedness to conjure anything of significance. With a dismissive shrug, he turned his attention back to the Commander. She was still clutching her head with one hand, her mouth twisted into a snarl as she glared at him. Her other hand was grasping onto her pistol, weakly trying to raise it. Even though her arm was trembling so badly that she would never get a decent shot off, Banes had always been a cautious person; it was the only reason the Alliance had yet to catch him. With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he sent her arm crashing into the crates behind her, while suspending the rest of her writhing body in a stasis field. He grinned menacingly as he heard the sound of tendons snapping and her gun clattering to the floor.

Banes cocked his head to the side as he gazed at the Commander, considering his next move. She was evidently a powerful biotic; he had no doubt he would be dead if not for his fortunate stroke of luck. He had no idea what was debilitating the woman, but whatever it was, it had saved his life. He could finish her now, get rid of her and hopefully scare Kahoku away for good. He had hoped his contacts in Alliance HQ and Udina's office could do that, but evidently, they were not worth the credits they had been paid. Maybe this time, Kahoku would get the message.

As he tensed his trigger finger, another thought occurred to him, staying his hand. None of his previous subjects had been biotics of any significant power. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone… see if subjects at a higher baseline reacted any differently, and also gain another test subject for the other project based on Edolus. He smirked as he considered the prospect; no doubt his superiors would reward his initiative with more funding, possibly even his own department with a stunning vista of Anadius.

He reached into his pocket, withdrawing a syringe filled with a viscous green substance. "A thought has crossed my mind, Commander."

"Yeah? Must have been a fucking lonely journey," she snarled; he could feel her struggling against his stasis field.

"Come now, you're hardly in any position to be insolent," he murmured, as he sank the needle into the taut muscles of her neck, depressing the plunger forcefully. It would have been more humane to administer the injection slowly over the shoulder or in her thigh, but given the inconvenience she had already caused him, he was in no mood for mercy. He snorted as she flinched, her eyes widening.

"I'm gonna tear your fucking face off and return it to the poor pyjak you stole it from, you fucking piece of shit," she growled through clenched teeth.

He smiled sweetly as he patted her cheeks condescendingly. Briefly, he considered withdrawing the needle. _Pointless._ _They won't be able to make head or tail of it, anyway_. As he stood, he roughly wrenched the syringe to one side, causing the needle to tear through her muscle and connective tissue. The pain would have been excruciating; the needle was of sufficient bore size that it would be akin to someone attempting to slice beef with a chopstick.

"Goodbye, Commander. I'll be seeing you soon."

With that, he turned and sauntered off, roughly flinging the suspended soldier into the wall as he went.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Ashley's eyes bulged as she saw the wave of biotic energy slam into the Commander's quivering hand. She struggled in vain against the singularity's gravitational pull, but she might as well have been a fish out of water. _Jesus fuck, Williams, move your fucking ass! You owe Shepard!_ She grit her teeth, using all her strength to swing her assault rifle away from the miniature black hole she was orbiting. Heaving against the unrelenting force, she raised the sight to her eye, trying to aim at Banes' head.

_Damn fucking goddamn piece of shit!_ Ashley snarled in frustration as her arms refused to cope with the combination of her gun being continually pulled away and her constantly changing position. _Fuck!_ Seeing Banes raise his arms, some sort of implement directed at Shepard's neck, Ashley again lunged against her restraints. She fired wildly at him, hoping her bullets would somehow avoid Shepard. When no bullet holes appeared around Banes, however, she blinked, looking around for an explanation. Her shoulders sagged in despair as she saw her rounds being instantly sucked into the singularity. _Fucking biotics!_

Helplessly, she watched as Banes stabbed Shepard in the neck, the Commander's body twitching violently in pain. Then, Banes was standing, and she felt herself being flung away. She was mildly aware of crashing into the far wall, and her head flinging backwards before the world went black.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara looked on in horror as Banes wrenched the syringe along Shepard's neck. She tried to cry out, but all that escaped her lips was a hoarse gasp. She kept inching forward, but her arms were weakening, and her entire body just felt so… heavy…. Trying to ignore the searing pain coming from her back and the dizziness which threatened to overwhelm her, she concentrated, trying to push Banes away from Shepard. Her features twisted into a grimace of frustration when her hands refused to even spark.

Then, out of the corner of her visual field, she saw Ashley being flung backwards, even as Banes stood and strolled away. Her eyes widened as Ashley's neck snapped back, her head whipping into the wall behind with a crack. Her eyes rolled up into her head as she slumped to floor, unconscious. Now, Liara was torn. Ashley was closer, but Shepard… Shepard needed her help. She had seen Shepard collapse, seen her grasping her head in agony. She had an inkling as to what might have happened, and if she did not reach Shepard in time… Frantically, she clawed forward with more vigour than she thought possible, surprised at the tears which formed at the thought of Shepard dying.

"Liara…" the asari blinked, half-turning in surprise to see Ashley staggering to her feet in a daze. The soldier shook her head, wincing in pain before stumbling towards her. "You're hurt," she murmured, her hand immediately reaching for the medigel she kept in her belt.

Liara shook her head furiously. "We have to help Shepard!"

"Liara, if you don't let me pack your wound, there won't be anyone alive to help Shepard!" Ashley's eyes were flashing, almost as if she would rather leave Liara and rush to the Commander's aid. But, for some reason, she stayed by Liara's side, lathering her injury with the contents of the pack she had just opened. Liara stared at her, even as she semi-consciously noted the way Ashley's eyelids were drooping, the way her fingers fumbled and her shoulders sagged. Then, as she felt her own wounds begin to numb from the anaesthetic properties of the gel, she noticed the river of blood pouring down Ashley's neck. Her eyes widened as she reached up behind the soldier's head, her hand coming away drenched in sticky, red blood.

"Ashley… you need –"

"I'll… be… fine…. Help… Shepard…" Ashley's voice was weak, her words thick. Alarmed but now only distracted by dizziness, Liara slowly pulled herself into a sit, bracing herself against the floor at the sudden rush of giddiness which threatened to overwhelm her. Concentrating, she pushed as hard as she dared with her mind against the gaping wound in Ashley's head. She knew she would not be able to maintain the pressure field for long, especially if she was to help Shepard, but it would be better than nothing. Her heart ached that Ashley had used her personal supply of medigel on her, sacrificing her own needs. By the Goddess, Liara would _not_ let Ashley die on her behalf.

Liara pulled herself into a crawl, about to start towards Shepard, when an idea popped into her head. It was incredibly risky and dangerous but… she glanced back, seeing Ashley now slumped on the floor, her breathing erratic. Taking a deep breath, Liara focused on forming a wisp of biotic energy in her hand. Satisfied when it took the shape of a rod, she concerted her will on the tip of the rod, channelling energy into it until she could feel the heat emanating off it. Cautiously, she rotated the wisp, such that the tip of the rod was facing Ashley's skull. Leaning over the fallen soldier, she parted her hair, locating the wound. Liara held her breath as she directed the rod at the wound, cauterizing the arteries from which the Chief was bleeding. Satisfied when the river of blood slowed into a trickle, she started crawling towards Shepard. Her sealant would not last – the arteries were under too high a pressure – but she hoped it would buy Ashley enough time till help arrived.

"Normandy… come in," she rasped into her omni-tool as she dragged herself towards the slumped Commander.

"Go ahead, shore party," came a voice she recognised as the pilot's.

"Commander Shepard and Gunnery Chief Williams have been gravelly wounded. We need a medevac at our position immediately."

"_Shit! Again?_ Alright doctor, hold position, we're coming to get you."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara cupped Shepard's face in one hand, listening and feeling over her mouth and nose for breath sounds, while frantically searching for a pulse with the other hand. The Commander's head was slumped forward onto her chest, and her eyelids were half-closed. One of her arms lay in an awkward, unnatural position, while the other, which Liara remembered had been gripping onto her head, lay by her side. Satisfied when she heard a strained intake of breath, she shook the Commander's uninjured shoulder firmly.

"Shepard! Shepard, wake up!"

_No response_. Raising her hand, she winced as she slapped the Commander sharply across the cheek. "Shepard!" Again, nothing. Liara glanced around, feeling her agitation growing. She suspected the Commander's collapse might have something to do with the beacon and the data it had transferred to her brain. If so, then the Commander's mind was not coping with the alien information, and was shutting itself down in order to prevent incongruous activation and simultaneous discharge of different areas of the brain. In its "mildest" form, such activation would trigger a grand mal seizure, usually not lasting for more than five minutes before the activity fizzled out spontaneously. If it was as severe as Liara suspected, however, the Commander did not have long till she was permanently brain damaged – and she would never be the wiser for it.

Desperately, she slapped the Commander again. She _needed _Shepard to wake up, needed her permission to enter her mind. Liara could not bring herself to initiate a meld with someone who had so explicitly denied her permission to; to do so would be tantamount to rape. Yet, if she did not do it, the Commander would certainly die. Could she risk doing such a thing to the woman who had shown her such kindness? Could she bear to face her afterwards, suffer her anger and subsequent rejection of their new friendship? Liara did not see that she had any other choice.

She took a deep breath, giving the Commander's shoulder one last shake, her cheek one last slap, before her eyes shifted to black. Eye contact was traditional, but not necessary for a meld; it was merely done because it made the whole experience feel so much more personal. In this instance, Liara did not have that luxury. She closed her own eyes, reaching out for Shepard's mind with her own. Her breath hitched in her throat as her consciousness brushed Shepard's, the initial contact repelled almost instantaneously with ferocious force. Gritting her teeth, she reached out again, this time more firmly, but equally as gently as the previous attempt.

_{Shepard, it's me. Relax, Shepard.}_

_{Liara?}_ The Commander's mind was confused, and Liara could sense a hint of anger tinged with the bitter sensation of betrayal. _{I told you: no!}_

_{Shepard, please. The beacon will destroy your mind if you don't let me help you. It is already destroying your mind.}_

Shepard's consciousness seemed to flicker, a wave of rage blitzing outwards before its flames were doused with the waters of resignation. Wordlessly, the initial barriers melted away, although Liara could still feel many others towering over her. As she entered Shepard's mind, she felt like an ant entering the enormous vacuum of space. The stars were legion, all so near but yet so far. She needed to get to them, but she had nothing to traverse the expanse with, and the Commander was not helping. Every time she saw a path, a barricade was thrown up; everywhere she turned, the suns shifted, disappearing in the blink of an eye and reappearing somewhere else.

_{Shepard, trust me.}_

Her attention was drawn to a flashing nova, and she turned towards it. She half expected it to vanish; she was surprised when she suddenly found herself beside it, squinting under its glare. The nova pulsed, and she scrunched up her eyes in the face of the blinding light, raising her arms to shield her face.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

When Liara opened her eyes, she was in a room, one she did not recognise. The floor was made of wood. It was damp and rotting, but somehow, the room managed to emanate with warmth. The far wall was mostly taken up by a large window, through which shone the soft glow of daybreak. Near the window, there was a bed, the floor around it littered carelessly with discarded items of clothing. Other than that, the small room was sparse; there was a small wardrobe and some crates which Liara assumed were meant to pass as a desk. Despite its ramshackle appearance, it was evident that someone _lived_ in the room, appreciated it for what it was, for the shelter it provided.

The wall above the desk was adorned with photographs Liara could not quite make out, even though she was only standing a metre away. On one corner of the desk, a model Alliance cruiser was in the process of being assembled; the half-completed ship stood on its stand, hundreds of other pieces scattered about, occasionally separated by tubes of glue. Leaning against the other corner were two objects Liara did not recognise. One of them was slightly taller and wider than the other. Both had four strings running along their length, and they looked to be made of wood. Leaning on the thinner object was a thin wooden rod which, to Liara, looked a little like a saw.

Just as Liara was reaching out to touch the strange object, her attention was drawn by a light giggle. Instinctively, her head turned towards the source of the noise; she blinked and wondered how she had not seen it before. Two human women lay on the bed, sheets haphazardly strewn around their naked bodies. One of the women was half-sitting, her long, dark hair falling carelessly down her face. Her soft brown eyes were fixed on the green of the other woman, whose head she cradled over her breast.

The emerald-eyed human reached up, sweeping the other's hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears. Liara had never seen such happiness and serenity on another person's face, in their smile.

"I love you, Ari."

The other woman hummed in contentment, leaning over to kiss her lover. Liara blushed, averting her gaze. When the kiss broke, she could hear both women panting slightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a hand sweeping over an inner thigh, a soft moan escaping one of their lips.

"Ari, wait. I… there's something I need to tell you. I… I love you… I can't keep this from you anymore. No more secrets, ok?"

Instantly, the world melted away. Liara tried to keep a grip on the scene, but she was suddenly aware of all of Shepard's inner walls crashing down. Suddenly, the stars did not seem quite so far away. She looked around frantically as she realised they were shooting towards her, Shepard's memories colliding with her at frightening speeds.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Another room. This one did not have the warm glow of the last. It was cold, and Liara shuddered as she felt the caress of death sweep over her. She looked around – the walls were grey with dirt and grime, the room dark. There were no windows; the only source of illumination came from a machine humming away in the corner. It flanked a bed, on top of which lay the most wretched figure Liara had ever laid eyes on.

It was a human woman, completely emaciated. She was breathing only through the aid of an artificial ventilator, her breaths coming in ragged, pained gasps. Her head was completely devoid of hair, and her cheeks were gaunt. Her eyes were little more than hollowed-out sockets; Liara wondered if she could even see through the glaze. They were fixed on the ceiling, to a point they never once deviated from. Her skin fell off her bones like rags, the muscle they once wrapped around so snugly now completely wasted.

Liara clapped a hand over her mouth in horror, about to turn and run, when she noticed the silhouette of a small child huddled in the corner. The child was crying, her mouth continually forming the word "mummy," although barely a whisper emanated from her throat. Liara's heart ached at the sight; she wanted nothing more than to sweep the child up in her arms and comfort her. Slowly, the child made her way to the bed, clambering atop it even as she clung on to the withered human lying on it. Harsh sobs wracked her body, but her mother made no move to comfort her.

Suddenly, a door slammed, and Liara jumped. The child's head jerked upwards, looking around in terror. Her whole body tensed, ready to scamper away. Before she could, however, a large human man stomped into the room, his angry charge passing right through Liara. At the sight in front of him, his face contorted in rage, and he grabbed the child by the scruff of her neck, flinging her roughly against the wall.

"You don't fucking touch her!" came a roar which made even Liara wince. "I never wanted you! It's all your fucking fault, you sorry little piece of shit!"

The child cowered in the corner as the man bore down on her. Liara watched in wide-eyed horror as he removed a shoe, raising it high above his head. The blows came raining down, the man completely oblivious to the terrified cries which were begging him to stop. Liara wanted to look away, wanted to use her power to fling the man aside, but she could do neither. Instead, she wept, unable to soothe the burn in her chest.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara said a silent prayer of thanks when the scene in front of her suddenly vanished. She turned around, trying to figure out where she was, only to duck instinctively as she heard a voice belonging to a batarian. She looked over her cover, preparing to defend herself, before she remembered no one could see her. Slowly, she stood, before her eyes widened and her heart stopped.

The scene in front of her was terrifying. She was in a large room, one which seemed almost the size of the Presidium. It was populated with a mix of batarians and humans, although all the humans looked starved and beaten. Around their necks, they wore collars, bound so tightly Liara wondered how they managed to breathe. She recoiled as she saw a batarian depress the button on his remote; the human he was sneering at collapsing to the ground, shrieking in agony.

In the centre of the room, a human slave was brutally beating another with a stick, screaming at him, calling him a "cockroach" as blow after blow landed. Just a couple of metres from him, another young human was being forced by two eager batarians to rape an older woman. His pained cries stole Liara's breath from her lungs. As the tears ran down her face, she had to brace herself against some crates to keep herself upright.

In another corner, a pair of batarians were slapping and punching a cowering human prisoner. When she fell to the floor, one of the guards stood on her chest, bracing himself against the wall, as another jumped viciously on her feet. Just next to them, another guard sat lazily in a chair, shotgun dangling loosely on his knee. He was disinterestedly gazing at a spot in the distance, his hand holding onto a leash. Liara followed his gaze, feeling herself sink to her knees and ready to throw up as she saw a leashed varren tearing into the remains of a human. Another human was shrinking in terror just next to the body, unable to move as a guard mercilessly baited her with the remote to her slave collar.

Liara slumped to the ground, her face buried in her hands. This was… atrocious. She looked up briefly, before her gaze settled on a face she recognised. A slightly younger version of Shepard lay prone, hidden behind a vent. Her expression was contorted into one of utter fury as she watched the scene in front of her. Liara desperately wanted to reach for her, to have her hold her and weather the storm with her.

Just as she held out a hand, the scene vanished again.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara blinked, finding herself back in the warm glow of the first room.

"Ari please… don't go… I…"

Suddenly, Liara found herself being assaulted by a series of flashing images.

The younger girl with green eyes, strung up from the ceiling by her wrists. She was naked save for her bra and panties, her body covered in cuts and bruises. One of her eyes was swollen shut.

Suddenly, the other girl was beside her, except her look was no longer tender. She snarled as she held a cigarette butt to her prisoner's cheek. The look on the younger Shepard's face broke Liara's heart.

Then, another flash. Liara opened her eyes to a world she did not recognise. Fires burnt everywhere, new ones re-igniting dying embers even as the sounds of screams filled the air. All of a sudden, Liara felt her consciousness desert her. She looked down, but she did not recognise her hands; there were three fingers instead of five. Then, her mind was assuaged by thoughts which were not hers.

_I cower, howling, my dead child in my arms._

_His eyes fly open; my heart skips a beat. Before I can speak, a bone-chilling, unnatural moan escapes his lips._

_I cannot move, cannot breathe as I stare at my child. My beautiful child. He reaches for my face, I long for his gentle caress. I close my eyes. "Ssshhh.. mummy's here. I'll alwa–"_

_The breath catches in my throat as my face burns. My heart aches so badly. _

_I fall to the ground, my eyes no longer seeing._

_The reflection in my eyes; do you see it? The burning, the screeching of metal as my world collapses._

_Ah, the sky. The sweet blue sky. No – no – don't take it from me._

_Darkness as the black hand of death descends upon me._

_My world is burning. _

_Your world will burn too._

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard's eyes snapped open even as she felt Liara fall onto her. Her broken body groaned in pain, but her head was clear and her headache was gone. Immediately, she tried to reach for Liara, only to cry out in agony as her left arm shuddered under the effort. Gingerly, she tested her right, sighing inwardly with relief when she realised it was relatively uninjured.

"Liara?" Shepard shifted her head, trying to see Liara's face. She could at least feel the asari breathing against her; that slowed her heart somewhat. Suddenly, she became aware of the fact that Liara's entire body was trembling, sobs racking her lithe frame.

"Hey," Shepard murmured gently, ignoring the stinging in her own eyes. She raised her right hand to her mouth, pulling her glove off with her teeth. She pulled the asari into a fierce hug, before she started tenderly stroking her cheek. Liara's sobs only grew harsher, and Shepard's chest ached at the pain she had caused the asari. She brought her lips to Liara's forehead, planting a soft kiss there even as she felt Liara cling to her.

"I'm sorry, Liara. I never wanted you to see any of that. I'm so sorry."

Shepard could feel her own tears start to fall now. Angrily, she grit her teeth, forcing her injured left arm to her face as she scrubbed the tears away roughly. _You fucking selfish bitch. You should never have let Liara in. You're such a stupid shit, Shepard!_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the nearing sound of sirens. She looked up to see an army of heavily-armed C-Sec agents bearing down on her position, Chakwas and Kaidan in tow.

"Commander!" Kaidan dashed to her side, even as he gently pried the quaking Liara off Shepard, seating her gently to the side.

"I'm fine – go and help Ash."

"But ma'am –"

"That's a fucking order, Alenko!"

"I – aye, aye, ma'am."

Shepard's glare turned towards Dr Chakwas, who looked distinctly unimpressed. "Commander, you're making a very bad habit of this."

Shepard was in too foul a mood to shoot of one of her trademark smartass comebacks. "Doctor," she said impatiently. "Shut the fuck up and attend to Dr T'Soni. She has been shot and needs fucking medical attention immediately."

"With all due respect, Commander, I'll decide who needs medical attention and when."

Suddenly, Chakwas' eyes narrowed, and the faint smile on her face vanished. She knelt down, gesturing to the needle in Shepard's neck.

"Shepard… what is this?"

* * *

**A/N: the scenes described at Torfan (section 7) are modified retellings of the atrocities committed in Rwanda in the 1990s. 10 of the perpetrators of those barbaric acts are still at large today. Some are from trial documents of men accused of torturing prisoners at Abu Ghraib. Only the collars were made up.**


	17. Chapter 17: Corrumpebant

**A/N: SURPRISE! Yes, I know I said there probably wouldn't be an update today, but I drank too much caffeine attempting to get over jet lag… too hyper after work! Plus, you guys made me feel bad for writing such a dark chapter yesterday and then ending on an… unsatisfactory note. Not that this one is a humongous bag of laughs, mind, but at least it's not on that level… I promise more shits and giggles soon... who knows when for sure, though ;p**

**Oh, and I am aware that there is a drug in the ME universe which is similar to the one I describe below. However, it is called Omega-Enkaphalin, which I assume is a nod to the endogenous opioid enkephalin. One of my big bug bears is science fiction which makes little sense in the context of today's fact. So, I'm ignoring the fact that O-E exists (oh and that worms are invertebrates) – sorry if that irritates you :)**

* * *

Banes smirked to himself as he took a break from his work, swivelling around in his plush office chair. The facility he had been provided was opulent, almost to the point of redundancy. Indeed, some of his colleagues who favoured a more post-modernism style might have termed it ostentatious. He had his own private office; it was large, almost half the size of that swanky emporium on the Presidium. The centre of the room was occupied by a large, U-shaped mahogany desk. He liked its utility and exquisiteness; his multiple screens hummed away on one side, with datapads and other reports he was writing or perusing on the other. The middle was reserved for face-to-face meetings with his employees or individuals he needed to negotiate with. Sitting behind such an imposing desk in a black leather seat usually placed the ball squarely within his court from the get-go.

Behind him, a large window was set in the exterior-facing wall. Edolus was nothing much to look at, so for the most part, he kept the shutters closed. The only time they were open was when he wanted to make experimental observations first-hand, or when he tired of the artificial daylight. By the window, in a corner of the room, sat a small cabinet. He had some personal effects within, nothing of much significance bar some prototype weapons which he kept close out of a combination of paranoia and surreptitiousness. Atop the cabinet sat an elegant Waterford Crystal whiskey decanter, half-filled with a priceless 21 year-old Old Pulteney highland single malt Scotch whisky. It was flanked by an elegant set of tumblers, which Banes was almost tempted to fill with drink.

The two corners which flanked the doorway to his office doubled as a library and a meeting area respectively. The library was his pride and joy, and a testament to his penchant for vanity. Books were impractical and expensive these days; he had not and would probably never read any of the volumes on his shelves. Yet, he collected them, an eclectic mix. They were mostly classical works of English literature, encyclopaedic tomes, and the seminal scientific publications and dissertations of the 20th through to the 21st centuries. As if to lend credence to the pretense of study, a 1950s Arne Jacobsen Egg chair sat by the shelves.

Banes could only lick his lips in anticipation of what more he would be given if these particular experiments yielded desirable results. Davey had been an idiot. They had such a powerful weapon in corrumpebant. Then, the imbecile had decided to give the experimental compound to some squid head. Banes understood that the matriarch, Aryana, needed to be dealt with; her espousing biotic supremacy was as good as ill-disguised claims of asari superiority. His organisation could not let such apocryphal claims go unchecked. Corrumpebant was Davey's elegant solution to the problem. Neutralize the asari's biotics, and she would look like nothing more than a raving lunatic, completely discredited. The problem was his execution. While he had succeeded in spiking her evening glass of Thessian red with the compound, the fool had also inadvertently supplied their enemies with a sample of it.

Now, certain divisions of the asari military – not many, thankfully – had access to corrumpebant. The boss had been livid when he found out, immediately ordering that research into an antidote begin. The threat to humanity's budding biotic corps was just too great to ignore. Banes had the chance to sit in Davey's chair, have him executed for incompetence. His previous research into biotic exploitation and mind manipulation through nervous nodes would provide a sound platform from which he could extrapolate, shortening the drug development process and giving him an invaluable head start over his colleagues. However, all his attempts had so far failed; he snarled in frustration at the memory of what had happened to his subjects. The results had not been pretty – uncontrolled node division, multi-organ failure and insanity, but to name a few.

But then again, he reminded himself, none of them had been biotics of any particular strength. Maybe this time, the results would be different.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara's eyes fluttered open. She was in the Normandy's med bay, as she had been for the last day. Despite her initial verbal sparring with Shepard, and her concerns over the needle in her neck, Dr Chakwas had been a consummate professional. She had determined that while Shepard's injuries were more in number and severity, they were not as life-threatening as Liara's or Ashley's. Chakwas had had one of the field medics give Liara a blood transfusion while she attended to the gash in Ashley's head. Then, she had sedated all of them, bringing them back to the Normandy where she could work under controlled conditions, and at her own pace.

Ashley was the first priority – with a head injury, there was no telling what sort of consequences there might be for the brain. Her skull had been fractured, and an artery on its under surface had ruptured. The resulting bleed had begun to compress her brain; Chakwas had barely gotten to it in time. Any further delay, and Ashley's brain would have been forced out of her skull and into her spinal column, killing her instantly.

Liara was next; she had been shot through the back, but the bullet had fortuitously missed all her major organs and blood vessels. An intestine had been nicked, but her hardsuit's automatic injection of antibiotics had prevented an infection from festering. She would not have been incapacitated if she had applied some medigel immediately. Dr Chakwas had replaced her lost blood, and repaired the gaping hole in her abdomen. The procedure had not taken long, but given the time Dr Chakwas had spent on Ashley, almost 12 hours had gone by the time Liara first awoke.

Finally, Chakwas had started on Shepard. The impact with which the Commander had been thrown by Banes had resulted in her breaking a number of bones and tendons. If not for the sedation, she would have been in agony. Chakwas had spent a further eight or so hours painstakingly setting all the bones and re-attaching broken tendons and nerves, before applying a cell regenerator to speed up the healing process. Then, without pausing to get some rest, she had taken the syringe to the lab which doubled as Liara's quarters to begin tests.

The Normandy's med bay was not big – there was barely enough room for four beds, and they were in such close proximity to each other, Liara wondered how Chakwas managed to manoeuvre and find the space to work. As the world came into focus, she saw Shepard lying asleep in the bay immediately next to her.

Liara's eyes stung as memories of what she had seen the day before came flooding back. Shepard had seen and suffered more in her mere 29 years than Liara could ever have fathomed possible. Liara's heart ached for her lost innocence, and she bit her trembling lip to stop the sobs from coming; she did not want to wake Shepard. Even as she mourned, she realised she was not grieving her own innocence so much as Shepard's pillaged childhood, her unrequited love.

Liara's hands quivered with anger as her thoughts turned towards Shepard's father, towards the girl Shepard had called Ari. The only two times in her life Shepard had been vulnerable, she had been taken advantage of. With her father, she was a defenceless child, and the two people whom nature had appointed her champions had scorned her. Tears of rage fell as Liara became cognizant of thoughts she never dreamt herself capable of. In her mind's eye, she was trapping the man in a stasis field as he raised his arm, a ferocious warp field enveloping him as she tore his being limb from limb. And that girl. The one person Shepard, scarred as she was, had allowed in, of her own volition, no ramparts or barriers. Her reward? Betrayal and desertion. Liara would twist the cigarette in her own hand, stabbing it in her eye for the hurt and the pain she had caused.

And Torfan. Liara wanted to scream at the world, show them what she had seen, what Shepard had seen. All the politicians, the reporters, the civil rights movements. They sat on their high horses, pointing fingers and casting down judgement with no idea what they were babbling on about. Her chest burned in anguish as she recalled reading the articles which so vilified Shepard, of how she had been so disturbed by what she had read, of how _she_ had nearly judged Shepard herself.

Her guilt did nothing to ease the tears spurred by her heartache. She desired so much to hold Shepard, to let her know that she understood, that she did not care what others said. Shepard spent her life as a guardian of the weak; yet, she had no one to protect her from the vitriol directed at her. Liara wanted to be her friend, wanted to her to know that she was not alone, but she did not know how to tell her this, did not know if Shepard would reject her friendship completely. Resigned, she closed her eyes, reaching her hand out to gently stroke a thumb across the Commander's cheek. No doubt Shepard would recoil if she was awake, but, for now, for these few hours, Liara could be there for her.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard's mind was whirling behind her lightly-closed lids. She was aware that she should probably let Dr Chakwas know she was awake, but she needed some time to herself to think before having to deal with the doctor or… or Liara. She was so furious at herself for letting Liara see the goddamn fucked up shit inside her head. Liara was too innocent, goddamnit! She was naïve, a quality Shepard usually had no patience for. But, Liara somehow combined her naivety with an infectious exuberance that Shepard found captivating.

_And you well and truly fucked up, you dumbass shit_. _Of all the fucking people to show the messed up crap in your head to… bloody cretin._

Liara did not deserve to have her unblemished soul clawed away in that manner. For fucks' sakes, that was why people like Shepard existed. So that people like Liara would never have to see the shit she had seen. So that they could be safe, protected from the evil around them.

_But you failed._

Suddenly, she felt a gentle caress on the skin of her cheek. It was so warm, so tender, so… enchanting. She nearly opened her eyes to see what it was, before she stopped herself. She dreaded having to order the other to stop; she feared that everything that touch held would vanish the moment its owner realised they had been seen.

And so, she kept her eyes shut, her breathing slow, relishing in the soothing brush of Liara's thumb.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Mornin', Doc… gotta say, you did a fucking good job this time… I barely remember breaking anything."

"Good morning, Commander," Chakwas stood at the foot of Shepard's bed, arms folded, face twisted into a half smirk.

"What?"

"I'm beginning to doubt the stories about you, Shepard… everyone tells me you're this superwoman who wins every battle and eats bad guys for a snack, but all I ever seem to be doing is putting you back together." Chakwas paused as her half smirk widened into a full grin. "You seem to lose quite a lot."

Shepard snorted. "I'm sorry Doc, but I can't really hear what the fuck you're saying… all I seem to hear is the sound of Chewbacca fucking an Ewok."

Chakwas threw her head back in laughter at the ancient movie reference, patting the Commander's leg. "Well, Shepard, at least it was nothing too severe this time… you were actually my lowest priority."

"Hot damn, Doc, how do I win your heart again? Rainbows and fucking butterflies?" Shepard hesitated as her expression turned serious. "How are Dr T'Soni and Chief Williams?"

"They are doing well, Commander. Chief Williams is resting," Chakwas gestured at the sleeping form her body had been hiding from Shepard's view. "Dr T'Soni is fit for duty… she's in her quarters."

"Good." Shepard was about to continue before her breath caught in her throat. She raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. "Wait… no scolding?"

Chakwas sighed. "Commander, I save them up for special occasions… otherwise, they have no impact. Rest assured, when I deem it necessary, I will truss you up in a full body cast."

"I'd like to see you try." Shepard's chuckle died as her gaze hardened. "Doc… about that syringe…"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you much, Commander. The chemical appears to have three distinct components to it – at least, I was able to isolate three different drug delivery mechanisms. Two of them contained compounds which were not recognised in the Alliance databases. The third is a vector specifically designed to cross the blood-brain barrier, which, as you may know, is much less permeable than barriers between the blood and other organs. The compound it contains was also not recognised in our database."

Shepard's expression was completely unreadable, her stare icy. "What does that mean for me?" she asked quietly.

"To be honest, Commander, I don't know. All I can say for sure from my preliminary tests is that one of the compounds possesses a remarkable ability to induce cell division, and that all of them seem to have an affinity for biotic nodes. I would like you to remain off-duty until –"

"Negative, Doc. You said it yourself, these fucking things aren't on our radar. It will take too fucking long to figure out what the fuck that son of a bitch injected me with. I may not have that long, and Saren certainly does not need than long to finish whatever the fuck he's doing."

"Commander," Chakwas warned.

Shepard shook her head firmly. "Doc, the only way we're getting past this is to go after the fucker himself. You know that as well as I do. I'm not sure what the fuck it's done to me, or what it will do, but it will only get worse with time. That means I go. Now, or never."

Chakwas said nothing, holding the Commander's gaze. Finally, after a few long moments, she sighed and nodded.

"Joker!"

"Ma'am?"

"How far are we from the Sparta system?"

"Actually, ma'am, we're only 30 minutes out."

"Set a course, I want to be there yesterday. And get Lt Alenko, Vakarian and Dr T'Soni to meet me in the shuttle bay."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard gripped the handles of the Mako's turret, eyes darting around intently. They had flown to the Sparta system, the only lead she had on Banes being that Kahoku's marines had gone MIA there. When they had arrived, the Normandy's long-range scanners had almost immediately picked up an Alliance distress beacon coming from the planet Edolus. Shepard was highly attuned to the fact that it could be a trap. However, she ordered the Mako deployed anyway – (a) because they could not risk ignoring a potentially-genuine distress signal, and (b) because even if it was a trap, it was the only way to get to Banes given the short time available to them, anyway.

Edolus was a barren world; it reminded Shepard a lot of the Sahara desert back on Earth. Part of the N4 training program involved desert warfare and navigation. Finding her way out of the desert without a physical map and no fucking land markings had been hard enough, but the N program had been kind enough to give her only a limited supply of water. She fucking hated deserts. Edolus was no different. The wind whipped the sand into her faceplate, dramatically reducing visibility. The Mako itself, built to traverse all kinds of terrain, was barely coping with the rocky topography, the sights of her gun rocking so much she doubted she could get a decent shot off even if she wanted to.

She was about to call up the infrared scanners when she spotted an abandoned Mako in the distance, a beacon spinning next to it, its flashing strobe catching her attention.

"Target dead ahead. Stay frosty, people," Shepard murmured into her comm.

Her eyes narrowed behind her faceplate as they approached the beacon. The area was completely deserted. There were no bodies, no scattered weapons and no signs of battle… except for the Mako. Its outer ceramic shell had been hit by some kind of weapon; it was completely melted away, and the solidified rivers of molten ceramic were still visible. It had also sustained some kind of physical damage – half its chassis had been completely crumpled by the impact from a blow of sorts. The picture seemed oddly-familiar to Shepard, but –

"SHIT! It's a thresher nest!" Kaidan's frantic yell shocked Shepard out of her reverie. She shook her head, blinking, even as the picture of destruction started to make sense. Kaidan started gunning the Mako forward, and Shepard felt herself lurch as the tank shot forward.

Suddenly, the ground in front of them erupted, an ear-piercing shriek bursting out from it. Snarling, Shepard opened fire, even as the horrifying visage of a thresher maw appeared in front of her. If Shepard ever needed to describe a thresher maw to someone, her job would not be tough. "Gigantic fucking acid-farting centipede" would suffice. The creature was enormous, standing a good 30 metres above ground; Alliance Intelligence scans showed a body of at least twice that size underground. The fuckers erupted from the ground at random points, surprising their prey and taking them down with ease.

Not that they needed the element of surprise, of course. Thresher maws had enough firepower to take down 10 Makos, and then some. They had three main tools at their disposal. The most dangerous was the acid they spat. The damn substance could corrode the plating of an Alliance dreadnought – R&D had verified this with dismay. Shepard reckoned the fuckers must have learned to spit from baseball players; the fucking thing stank and travelled too goddamn far for her liking. Then, if you got to close, the thresher maw could utilise any one of its hundreds of limbs to take a swipe at you. Their claws were razor sharp, and they were surprisingly agile for such fat sumos. As if all that was not enough, there was that goddamn shriek. If not for the dampeners in her helmet, Shepard had no doubt she would be clutching at her ears in agony. The poor men on Akuze had not stood a chance; it was only after learning about the noise from Commander Alston that the Alliance modified their dampeners to take that frequency into account.

The only way to fight a thresher was to aim for its head. It had no armour per se, but its hide was so thick even the Mako's cannon did not stand a chance of penetrating it. Biotics had proven useful at warping smaller tissue samples, but no human biotic had enough power to even attempt to damage a maw with biotics alone.

Shepard cursed incessantly as the Mako rocketed along, unable to get a decent shot off. "Turk!" she roared. "Get your fucking ass up here, now!

"Alenko! Make for the worm! Brake and take a hard left on my mark!"

"Ma'am? At melee range the maw will –"

"Goddamnit Stiffler, if you ever question another one of my fucking orders again I will fucking rip your head off and have Wrex shit in you!" Even as she bellowed at Kaidan, she scampered out of her perch onto the top of the Mako, concentrating as she held herself to the surface with a biotic field.

"Monday! Stasis field, 12 o'clock! Release on my mark!" Shepard thrust what energy she was not using to hold her own position at the maw, just as she felt Liara add her energy to the field. For a few precious seconds, the thresher maw was held completely stationary, unable to attack as the Mako charged. It might as well have been a mouse scampering up to an elephant.

"Alenko! T'Soni! Mark!" Just as the Mako came within a couple of metres of the maw, Shepard yelled, releasing the field holding her position as she did so. The Mako came to a sudden, grinding halt, its tyres squealing as Kaidan yanked the steering wheel. Taking full advantage of her forward inertia, Shepard channelled her energy through her legs, leaping off the tank and launching herself onto the head of the maw. Even as she struggled to gain purchase and avoid the claws coming towards her, she shouted more instructions into her comm. "Turk! Keep the guns on the fucker's face! Stiffler! Strafe till I say you can fucking stop!"

"Is she fucking crazy?" she heard Kaidan shout, even as she swatted away a claw with a throw. Cursing, she felt herself slipping – there was nothing to hold on to. _Yeah Shep, great fucking plan!_ Gritting her teeth, she pushed downwards with her legs, throwing herself into a forward somersault further up the maw's neck. As she brought her feet over her head, she reached for her boot knife, hands aflame as she plunged it into the maw. The monster shrieked, shaking its head violently, Shepard clinging on to the knife for dear life. Even as she did so, she unshipped her pistol, unloading an entire round into the side of the thing's head.

The consequence was not something she was expecting. With a roar of pain, the maw surged upwards, before abruptly changing direction and plunging to the ground. _Oh fuck_. With barely enough time to bring up a barrier, the maw crashed into the ground, sending rock and dirt flying everywhere. It took all of Shepard's strength to keep her grip on her knife while protecting herself from the relentless barrage of earth and stone.

"Where the hell did it go, Liara?"

"It's impossible to track via the scanners, Garrus, it's moving too fast!"

It was all Shepard could do to keep her head down as the maw hurtled through the ground. Her barrier was holding for the most part, but occasionally, projectiles coming from directions she did not anticipate broke it, ruthlessly battering her helmet and body from side to side. Suddenly, Shepard was temporarily blinded by white light as the thresher surged from the ground.

"There! Nine o'clock!"

"I see it!"

The maw was reared its head, preparing to fire a blast of acid. For a few merciful seconds, it was completely still. Shepard used this to her advantage, yanking herself into a flip, standing on her embedded knife and unshipping her shotgun at the same time. With a ferocious roar, she unloaded all four shots into the beast's neck, grinning wildly as it shrieked and lurched. With the sudden motion, however, Shepard lost her footing, only reaching out in time to grab the handle of the knife as she fell. She winced as she felt her shoulder jar against its socket from the impact.

Then, her eyes widened as one of the claws came towards her. With her free hand, she batted it away with a throw, before swinging from the knife to hurl a warp field at the maw's face. The maw temporarily stunned, she again flung herself forward, ripping the knife out of the worm as she did so. Dashing as far up the steep incline as she dared, she again concentrated her energy into her legs, leaping clear of the worm and into the air. As she did so, she snarled and drew her fist back, gathering all her might before slamming her fist into the maw's face.

The monster's head jerked brutally to the side, and it fell towards the ground. Shepard slammed her knife into it again before she blinked. _What the fuck? No way I could have done that_. She did not have time to complete the thought as the maw halted its downward spiral with a shriek, shaking its head violently to the other side. This time, Shepard was unable to maintain her grip on the knife, and she was sent flying. She erected a barrier, but the force with which she was flung still knocked the air out of her lungs, and she barked with pain as she struck the ground.

"Garrus, shoot!" Liara's frantic voice came over the comm as the maw bore down on Shepard.

"Liara, no!"

Shepard swung her fist, and again, the maw's face jolted to the side, the acid which was destined for her flinging to one side. She followed it up with a sphere of energy in a biotic uppercut, but this one had less of an impact, barely slowing the beast's advance. Suddenly, its claws were upon her, and there were so fucking many of them. She erected a barrier with one arm, even as she batted those that pierced it away with the other. Then, Shepard's eyes widened as her barrier flickered. _The fuck? I'm not even tiring! Concentrate you stupid piece of shit!_

She swung her fist against an incoming claw, but not even a spark emanated from her hand. She stared at it in horror for a split-second, before setting her jaw and putting all her will into a second attempt. Nothing. _Godamni – _

Shepard never completed her thought as her vision suddenly seared white in agony, the maw's claw shredding her armour and slicing clean through her abdomen. Snarling, she grabbed her assault rifle, unloading the entire clip into the maw's face, even as another claw minced the other side of her body. Frantically snapping in another clip, she opened fire on the claw heading directly for her head, but the fucking thing kept coming.

Just as Shepard's thermal clip overheated, the maw was yanked backwards; its spine snapping as its body was brutally pulled in a direction it was not meant to. A blazing field of energy encircled it, wrenching its head clockwise around the long axis of its body. Although it was, in all likelihood, already dead, its attacker refused to relent. A vicious wave of energy slammed into its face, sending its head telescoping into its body. Then, its entire body started to warp, as it sank to the ground, the smell of burning flesh filling the air.

Shepard pulled herself into a sit, panting as she yanked off her helmet. Her mouth was agape as she stared at the asari who had attacked the maw, her expression contorted into one of complete and utter rage.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Monday, is there anything you can't do?"

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Shepard!" Liara's eyes were wide as she dashed towards the Commander, sliding to a halt beside her.

Shepard grinned. "I'm fine, Monday… but _fuck_. You are so teaching me that shit."

Liara blushed, even as she tried to ignore Shepard's teasing, fussing over her shredded armour. "Shepard… you're injured."

"I'm fine, just a few scratches." Shepard shook her off gently, even as she staggered to her feet, the Mako coming to a halt beside them.

"Spirits, Shepard… you really are as crazy as the stories say."

Shepard snorted, tossing her helmet forcefully at Garrus' chest. "Told you." She winced internally as she slowly brought a hand to her side. "Turk, Stiffler… go check out the beacon and the Mako… see you can trace anything."

Kaidan cleared his throat. "Uh, Ma'am? You referring to me?"

"What Alenko, you never watched American Pie? Fuckin awful 1990s flick? Figured it fit you… what with your obsession with butts and that stick up your ass."

Kaidan's cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red, even as a chortling Garrus tried to save his blushes by ushering him away. When they were gone, Shepard gingerly limped towards the Mako, intending to rummage around for its first-aid kit. She stopped when she felt a hand on her wrist.

"Shepard, let me." Liara's voice was soft, but firm, as she helped the Commander to the Mako. Shepard leaned against the tank, gritting her teeth against the sharp pain in her side. Less than a minute later, Liara was removing her broken armour, brows knit and eyes misting as she applied the medigel to Shepard's wounds. There was a gaping hole just to the right of Shepard's belly button. She packed it as best as she could, before moving on to the other wound. She did not really know what to do with this one; Shepard's side was a mess of mangled flesh. It was not bleeding profusely, but there were a large number of wounds, none of which could be individually packed. Eventually, Liara decided the best course of action would be to lather as much medigel over the wound as possible, and hope Chakwas would be able to sort it out later.

Shepard's wounds treated as best as Liara was able, she lifted her gaze to meet the Commander's. Shepard's eyes widened as she saw the expression on Liara's face, the tears in her eyes.

"Li–"

Shepard's sentence was cut off in surprise as Liara pulled her into a fierce hug. She stood, stunned, as the asari clung to her, her tears wetting the back of Shepard's neck. Not knowing what to do, she eventually raised a hand, patting Liara tentatively on her back.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard rolled her head, smiling grimly as she felt the vertebrae in her neck click. She was wearing the spare hardsuit they had brought in the Mako – it would do the job, but it did not feel as right as her usual one did. She was going to have to repair that once they returned to the Normandy.

The party was standing outside the entrance to a suspiciously defenceless base. Kaidan and Garrus had located a number of video recorders near the beacon, one of them attached to the barrel of the ruined Mako's turrets. Kaidan had determined that it was transmitting a video feed to a nearby structure. _Some sick fuck luring people to a fucking maw nest, and watching?_ Shepard was livid.

Silently, she gestured to Kaidan and Garrus to cover the other side of the main entrance, while she and Liara remained where they were. When everyone was in position, she reached over to initiate a hacking program. No sooner had she extended her hand, however, than the door mysteriously swooshed open. Shepard tensed immediately, her eyes narrowing. She was liking this less and less. If there was one thing her gut was telling her – and one thing even a fucking recruit could see – it was that they were walking into one big, fucking trap.

She pressed herself into the doorway, peeking around to get a decent view of the room within. She blinked when she saw that it was almost completely empty – the only viable cover she could see was the support pillars. There was only one person in the room. _Banes_.

"Come now, Commander, it's rude not to accept an invitation. I have opened my home to you, after all."

Shepard's face twisted into a snarl as she gestured to her team. Immediately, Liara and Kaidan erected barriers, even as they charged into the room, sliding into cover behind the pillars. Shepard glanced around the room, almost surprised not to see herself surrounded or some turrets popping out from the far walls. She swung out, training the sight of her assault rifle right between Banes' eyes.

"Banes, I'm going to stick your balls so far up your fucking ass you'll puke em up, you little shit. What the fuck was that crap you gave me?"

Banes laughed, a chilling, cold, mirthless laugh.

"Ah Commander. You and your Alliance are so naïve. You see, with a little research, I can do… _this._" His finger twitched, and instantly, Shepard was on her knees, her entire body flaring with biotic energy, her expression knotted into a grimace of pain.

"Shepard!" the Commander did not have the breath or the strength to tell Liara to get back into cover.

"You like that, Commander? Oh but you haven't yet seen the ace up my sleeve."

Again, Banes' fingers twitched, depressing some other button. Instantly, Shepard felt her rifle moving against her will, her aim shifting from Banes. She tried to resist, but it was almost as if her muscles would tear themselves from her bones if she did.

Her eyes widened in horror as her aim came to rest squarely on the chest of Banes' target, the pressure over the trigger increasing steadily.

"Liara… no…"


	18. Chapter 18: Augere

**A/N: Sorry there was no update yesterday – got caught up with work and life. Also, my brain decided to catch a head cold and die on me (despite valiant resuscitation efforts with a six-pack of Coke Zero), so there may not be something up tomorrow. Sunday's definitely out as I've got the delightful task of working then. **

**Thanks for all the talking points raised in the various reviews and PMs… gave me quite a bit of food for thought! I appreciate everyone taking the time to do so… please keep 'em coming :) Also, sorry if the following segments are a little confusing – just to clarify, segments 1 and 2 happen simultaneously, just different POVs. Banes' segment is intentionally jargon-filled, but is later clarified, so you can skip it if you wish – it just gives some background fluff.**

**EDIT: some of you may have seen the note I wrote in the previous chapter (which has now been taken down and revolves around the supposed up-comig "purge" of M-rated stories). On the back of feedback from thedeadflag and Theodur, I will probably not stop updating here, although the updates may be a little slower / the content toned down. I don't really want to tone the content down, however, as the content **_**is**_** Shep. I'd be interested to hear what you guys think, so please let me know. Some of you have kindly suggested Archive of Our Own, but unfortunately the lead-in joining time is 6 months, so I doubt this story will be headed there for now. Anyway… /end mother long A/N…**

* * *

Shepard's mind was working furiously even as her eyes widened and her aim shifted to Liara. The pain was all-consuming, and only intensified as she resisted. She felt like every muscle was on fire, as if thousands of worms were crawling around in them, trying in vain to gouge their way out. Gritting her teeth against the burning in her limbs, she forced herself to turn her attention inwards. With an almost callous detachment, she noted that she had full control over her senses; she could hear Banes gloating about the ace up his sleeve, feel the buzz of biotic energy dancing over her skin, and see the creases wrinkling Liara's brow, the whites surrounding her dazzling, pleading blue eyes, the mist which painfully dulled their sparkling intensity.

"Vakarian! Alenko!" she rasped, unable to see them and wondering why neither had taken a shot at their unguarded target.

"Ah Commander, your faith in your team is so… endearing. Unfortunately, they are otherwise occupied. Stasis bubbles are _so_ effective in dealing with unsuspecting, distracted detritus... don't you think?"

Shepard's face twisted into a snarl, even as her rifle quivered in her hands. Banes' inexplicable control was compelling, but crude. She could feel her finger twitching over the trigger, but was also aware that every other flexor in her body was contracting – both her arms were hugging her rifle so tightly to her chest she wondered that she was able to breathe against its force. She used this to her advantage – by putting every ounce of will she had into straightening herself, she was somehow able to stay her finger. From behind her faceplate, her eyes narrowed, fixing onto Liara's gaze before pointedly shifting to the pillar and then to Banes. Liara swallowed, her eyelids shutting briefly in subtle acknowledgement of Shepard's signal.

"Nothing to say, Commander? I must say, I'm surprised… by all accounts, you're something of a blabb–"

Banes' ramble was thankfully cut short as Liara dove out of Shepard's line of sight, barely avoiding a torrent of bullets as she flung a sphere of biotic energy at Banes. Surprised, he barely swatted it away in time, the field holding Garrus and Kaidan flickering as his attention was diverted from them. Immediately, both men swung out, sights raised and muzzles ablaze. They blinked as their shots slammed into a wall, Banes nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, Shepard became aware of her muscles relaxing. But… there was something else. Her eyes widened as the blue energy emanating from her pulsed and flared.

"_GET DOWN!_" she roared, but it was too little, too late. An enormous nova erupted from her, surging outwards in all directions. Her jaw hung slack as she saw her squad mates were hurled backwards, their bodies crumpling to the ground as they were slammed into the walls. The support pillars they had been hiding behind groaned, the shrill screech of buckling metal filling the air. Alarmed, Shepard instantly turned her attention to the crumbling ceiling; barely throwing up a barrier in time as tonnes of plastic and steel came tumbling down. She felt herself straining against the load, its weight driving her into the ground. Her mouth twisted into a grimace as sweat drenched her face; her arms were trembling, threatening to snap, mere twigs in the face of a relentless hurricane.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to brace her elbows against the ground, but she was fast nearing her breaking point. She tried to find it within herself to thrust the load outwards, but she worried what might happen to her companions if she could not control the projectile.

_Can't fucking risk it, Shep…_

With an inward sigh, she closed her eyes, just as she felt her arms seize up in cramp. Her barrier flickered, and she took a deep breath as it gave out completely. Suddenly, the benthic silence was replaced by an explosion of chaos, the thunder of the avalanche reverberating through every fibre that it threatened to crush. The air was driven from her lungs as the first chunk hit her in the stomach; she was aware of a sharp pain in her leg as another impacted it.

She brought her arms over her head as she braced herself for more, before her eyes flew open in surprise. The rubble was being lifted in a mass effect field, slowly hovering away before being set down safely beside her. She blinked; the ceiling that had been supported by the two pillars had almost completely caved in, the sheet of plastic and metal reduced to debris from the force of her nova. The walls of the room were barely standing, themselves bent outwards and now bathed in the afternoon sun.

As the dust settled, Shepard pulled herself into a sit, trying to clear her head and process what had just happened. She shook her head, trying to force away the sudden dizziness which accompanied the blood rushing from her head. The abrupt movement caused her to flinch, her hand moving to the sudden jab of pain coming from her side. She groaned as it came away bloody, remembering the wound that had been inflicted by the thresher maw. Setting her jaw, she pressed her hand harder into her side, before trying weakly to get to her feet. Her vision swam as her exhausted muscles shuddered, refusing to comply with any added exertion. She sank back down to her knees, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to gather her energy again.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara's eyes widened in terror at the gun Shepard was pointing at her. Even as her mind tried to analyse what was happening in front of her, she could see the surprise, confusion and… _fear_ in Shepard's eyes. She stood, rooted to the spot, unsure if she should move, throw up a barrier, try and incapacitate the Commander or turn her attention towards Banes. As her mind worked, she decided that staying still would be the safest option for now; the quiver in Shepard's body was evident – it was obviously taking every bit of her will to stop herself pulling the trigger, and Liara did not want her distracted by any sudden movements.

_By the Goddess, how is he manipulating Shepard's biotic abilities? _Liara's thoughts flickered back to the fight with the thresher maw, how Shepard's powers had at one point appeared to be greatly augmented – able to send the beast crashing towards the ground – and then completely neutralized. She had overhead Chakwas telling Shepard that she had been injected with three separate drugs, all of which had an affinity for eezo nodules and one of which targeted the brain specifically. _In theory, they could function as control, dampeners and stimulators respectively… but why amplify and neuter with the same injection? What could possibly – _

Liara's ruminations were interrupted as she noticed Shepard narrowing her eyes, indicating for her to get into cover and attack Banes. _Goddess… she can't hold!_ Barely pausing to acknowledge the order, Liara dove for cover, concentrating all her energy as she flung an arm towards Banes, heaving a warp field at him. She started as the sound of gunfire erupted, bullets peppering the spot where she stood not a split second ago.

She tucked herself into a roll, only to hear Shepard yell for her to get down as she came out of it. Before she knew what was happening, her entire visual field flashed a brilliant shade of blue, before she felt herself being picked off the ground and sailing through the air. Reflexively, she threw up a barrier, even as she felt herself crash into the wall with a yelp of pain. For a split second, the world went black, before she was harshly roused by the nausea rising in her gut. Stubbornly swallowing against the rising bile in her throat, she stumbled to her feet.

In a daze, she looked around, shocked to see the ruins the room was in. The ceiling was completely missing and… _Shepard!_ The Commander was on her back, struggling against the weight of the entire roof, her whole body shaking with effort. Liara's eyes widened as her barrier flickered. Without thinking, she flung both her arms forwards and upwards, just managing to catch the bulk of the load which had begun raining down on Shepard. Teeth grit in concentration, she carefully lowered the mass to the ground, before doubling over to catch her breath. As she felt her thundering heart begin to slow, she looked up.

"Shepard!" Liara forced her recalcitrant muscles to comply as she blearily staggered towards the kneeling human. "Shepard… are you alright?"

"Mmm… fine… Garrus…" the soldier's words were thick and mumbled; Liara could barely make them out.

"Shepard, sit, please." As she spoke, she gently pushed Shepard into a sit, resting her back against the rubble. The human was fumbling with her belt, reaching for her medigel even as she undid her helmet with her other hand. She was pale, and her hair, damp with sweat, clung to her face like creepers. Liara knelt beside her, reaching for the medigel in Shepard's hand before the human pushed her away gently.

"Go… Alenko… Vakarian…"

"Shepard you need assistance." Gently but firmly, Liara placed a hand on Shepard's shoulder, while again reaching for the medigel with the other.

"_Fuck, T'Soni! I said go!_" Liara blinked in shock at the vehemence in Shepard's hissed order. Her face was expressionless but her glare arctic as she met Liara's wide eyes. Suddenly aware that her mouth was hanging open, Liara swallowed, quickly turning her head so Shepard would not see the tears welling up in them. Silently, she nodded and stood, hobbling over to where Garrus and Kaidan lay.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The moment Liara's back was turned to her, Shepard sighed and closed her eyes, letting her head flop back against the rubble. _You're a goddamned fool, Shepard._ Without even needing to look at what she was doing, she unsnapped the packet of medigel, applying it to her re-opened wound. She bared her teeth at the initial, stinging contact, before exhaling. Opening her eyes, she rummaged through her field kit, smirking sardonically when her fingers closed around her energy bars. _Fist fight with a fucking maw and foreplay with a tonne of rubble and you're still here… you pig-headed resilient fuck. _

Too exhausted to use both her hands, she raised the first energy bar to her mouth, tearing off the wrapping with her teeth before devouring the bar. The second quickly followed, and within a few heartbeats, she could feel the fog clearing. The bars had been specifically designed such that simple sugars and electrolytes could quickly be released and absorbed from the gastrointestinal tract into the bloodstream. It was a staying measure to prevent field exhaustion in biotics – because of diminishing returns, only about 10 could be consumed before proper recuperation was needed.

When her hands finally stopped trembling, she hauled herself to her feet and picked up her assault rifle, which she had flung to the floor in her haste to erect the barrier. Ignoring the pain in her leg, she strode over to where Liara was tending to Garrus and Kaidan. Crouching, she placed a hand on Liara's shoulder.

"How are they?"

"It appears Kaidan was able to erect some semblance of a barrier, Commander. They have suffered no obvious injuries, although I suspect the force of the blast knocked them unconscious."

Shepard was quiet as Liara's words and the reality of what had happened finally hit home. _I did this. What the fuck is happening to me?_ Wordlessly, she stood, unshipping her pistol as she spun on her heel, stalking over to the platform where Banes had been standing.

"Commander… Shepard?" Liara turned, half-standing and her own pistol in hand as her alarmed voice rang out.

"T'Soni, stand the fuck down!" Shepard's eyes were ablaze, her glare brokering no argument as she whirled on the asari. Liara started, before a look of sorrow crossed her face. Ignoring the pang in her chest, Shepard grit her teeth, refusing to allow her glower to soften. _It's for her own fucking good, you ass_.

"Shepard, please… don't go. You nee–"

"I gave you a fucking order, T'Soni, and I expect it to be obeyed. Stay with Vakarian and Alenko. Open a comm link to the Normandy and request an immediate medevac. I'll be back."

"They are uninjured. I can –"

"Now, T'Soni."

Without waiting for an answer, Shepard turned and strode away.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara stared helplessly after the Commander, her shoulders sagging and eyes stinging. _Why won't she let me help her? Don't be silly, Liara. She is a soldier, brave and powerful. You would only hinder her. But… if she encounters Banes again…_

Liara cast a worried glance at the two unconscious forms beside her. Activating her comm, she spoke, even as she closed her eyes and raised a hand to her bowed forehead.

"Normandy, this is Liara T'Soni requesting immediate medevac at my position. Lt Alenko and Garrus Vakarian are down. Commander Shepard is in pursuit of a hostile without backup." She paused as she cast a worried glance at the spot where Shepard had been standing. "Please hurry."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard cursed silently as she moved through the deserted complex. Banes had confronted them in an anteroom of sorts. The platform atop which he had been standing was flanked by two corridors, which had provided an escape route within diving distance. Shepard assumed, not incorrectly, that the doors at the end of each corridor opened out to the same large room, from which smaller offices branched. Except, they were not offices. Shepard felt her fury rising as she cleared each successive room, all their layouts similar.

Each had a cell of some sort, too many monitors too look at at once, and a couple of terminals. Within each cell lay a human – _or what was once a fucking human_. Some bodies were little more than liquefied remains, having been doused with what looked – _and fucking stinks_ – like thresher maw acid. Others were curled into balls, their monitors still alight with data on their physiological responses to injections of maw acid. Yet more had multiple wounds in various stages of healing, evidently inflicted by thresher claws. One cell was conspicuously empty, no sign of its former occupant.

As she started clearing the other end, she realised that these people had been the subjects of a very different experiment. Some of them were emaciated, their unseeing eyes sunk deep into their skulls, their bones all too visible under their sagging skin. A few of the wasted humans had large, fungating wounds, but Shepard was too far away to directly ascertain the cause. Several cells had two occupants, slumped over each other, their injuries indicating they had savagely beaten each other to death. The last few she came upon made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. She was fairly certain the prisoners had been driven insane; their nails were cracked and bleeding, the paint on the walls splintered from where they had tried to claw their way out. One of them had somehow cut himself, using his own blood to write chilling messages about a "lost power" and a "festering cancer". Shepard felt a chill run up her spine as she turned her back on the disturbing sight. _Is this what's in store for me? Fuck!_

Finally, she came to a large door in the centre of the far wall. _This must be Banes' office_. Pressing up against the doorway, she slapped the door open. Hearing nothing, she swung around, pistol raised, to find…

Nothing.

"Fucking goddamn piece of monkey shit!" Shepard stowed her pistol, even as she punched the wall in anger. She heard a crack as her fingers broke under the force of the impact, but she did not care. Still muttering all manner of profanity under her breath, she stomped around the desk, beginning a data dump of all of Banes' files onto her omni-tool. Fortunately, it appeared Banes had not had the time to wipe his terminal. Dozens of journal entries sat open, while thousands of files were stored in neatly categorised and organised folder. If nothing else, Banes was meticulous. Apparently, he was also arrogant enough not to password-protect his terminal. _Fucker must never have anticipated anyone getting in here_.

As the data transferred, Shepard began to read.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

_18 February 2182_

_Davey… what an imbecile. Of all the people to give Corrumpebant to. An asari handmaiden with a commando sister? He should have done his research. Aryana's human receptionist would have been a far safer bet. Ah, who am I to bemoan his foolishness. Now, the Illusive Man has him in his sights and I am well poised to take advantage. Imperium showed great promise on Teltin, and I may even be able to get some to our assets in the Ascension project to test it there. If I can combine its ability to influence the neural impulse transmission of biotic soldiers with another drug that amplifies powers and reverses the effects of Corrumpebant, I will have killed two birds with one stone. The boss will get his antidote _and_ a super soldier who obeys orders. The ultimate combination of Leng and Lawson. Who knows how he will reward me?_

_26 August 2182_

_Success! I have developed a new drug, which I have dubbed Augere. I must keep its discovery a secret, lest my competitors find out. Its design is simple, but ingenious. I wonder how the concept escaped me previously. It all draws from eezo exposure _in utero_. 10 per cent of children develop biotics, but the other 90 per cent develop brain tumours, other cancers later in childhood or are born with horrendous birth defects. _

_Eezo must have some teratogenic effect on the zygote's stem cells, triggering apoptosis in some and uncontrolled mitosis in others. But how does it achieve this duality? Ah, therein lies the elegant solution to my problem. I believe eezo randomly damages DNA. In children with birth defects, DNA damage triggers apoptosis of certain cell lines, leading to malformation of various organs and limbs. In those with tumours, the DNA damage is in the tumour suppressor genes and proto-oncogenes, leading to unregulated mitotic activity and malignant neoplasms._

_In those select 10 per cent, however, eezo dust is phagocytosed by resident macrophages. Immune techniques such as fusion with lysosomes are futile as eezo is not destroyed by fluctuations in pH. This allows eezo to accumulate within certain cells in the body. In a select number of these cells, DNA damage presumably occurs in the proto-oncogenes, but not the tumour suppressor genes. This allows "eezo nodules", essentially benign tumours, to grow, the tumour suppressor genes kicking in before tissue invasion occurs. That would explain why development of biotic talent is a relatively rare phenomenon in eezo-exposed children._

_Augere capitalises on this. I have managed to induce a malignant transformation in eezo nodules, allowing them to grow and essentially increase the magnitude of the mass effect fields generated from a single nodule. The power gains, in theory, would be enormous! Of course, subjects would have a limited lifespan from first administration, but… they are expendable._

_3 April 2183_

_I have managed to further fine-tune the effects of Imperium. I can now activate the drug remotely via radio-frequency membrane disruption. The key to control, however, was slightly more difficult – it is dependent on its localisation in the brain. The motor homunculus allows direct mapping of certain areas of the motor cortex to distinct muscle groups. Now that I can target the various isoforms of Imperium to different areas of the motor cortex, I can stimulate release of glutamate and other excitatory neurotransmitters in those specific regions. They are rudimentary still – for example I still cannot work out how to specifically target areas mapping the fingers, but at least various isoforms can be localised to upper / lower limb flexors and extensors. It is a promising start. _

_Unfortunately, at this point, the amount of glutamate vesicles of Imperium can hold is finite. This means that subject control cannot persist beyond a few minutes before a second dose is necessary. This is impractical, but still, it forms a good platform from which my research can continue. If only I can find a way to increase endogenous glutamate release – so far I have only been able to decrease production, and predictably, all subjects have gone mad. God, I hate schizophrenic patients._

_9 April 2183_

_I have fortuitously found my next subject. All previous ones were weak biotics, so the increase in eezo node size was offset by a low number of nodes to begin with. We'll see if Augere is able to overcome the neutering effects of Corrumpebant in this one, and if Imperium can withstand a stubborn mule's will._

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard looked up, pistol raised, as the door to the office opened. Banes' self-absorbed journal had given her a headache. She did not understand the specifics of what she had read, but she knew enough biochemistry to get the gist of it… and she did not like the sound of it one bit.

"Liara," she growled. "I told you to fucking stay put!"

"I – I am sorry, Shepard. Dr Chakwas is attending to Kaidan and Garrus. Wrex is watching her back. I… I know you asked me to stay, but… I… I was worried about you." Liara's gaze was directed squarely at the floor as she spoke, her voice soft. She played with her hands nervously, as though she was a child awaiting admonishment from an exasperated parent. Shepard desperately wanted to tell her she was not angry, that she was touched Liara had come after her. But… _goddamnit, you stupid fuck, what have you just read? You're a fucking soft coward if you think you can let her in and subject her to all this shit._

Shepard's gaze hardened as she spoke. "Dr T'Soni. I gave you a fucking order. You will not disobey a direct order again, or so help me, I will personally deliver you to Saren's door so he can have your way with you. Am I clear?" Her chest was burning at the look of pain on Liara's face. Under the desk, her knuckles were white as she dug her fingers into her knees.

"I… y-yes, Commander. I… I am sorry."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara sat in the enveloping darkness of the Normandy's store room, tears streaming down her face. Shepard's words had stung her to the core, and she was terrified that, in disobeying Shepard's orders, she had somehow done something to compromise a friendship she had grown to treasure. She did not know what it was about Shepard, but in the short time she had known her, she felt an inexplicable desire to see her smile, to prove she was not a defenceless child, to have her know she was not alone in this world.

She had been disappointed that they had not had the opportunity to talk after the meld on the Citadel. In Shepard's defence, she had been unconscious for most of the time, and when she had awoken and been declared fit for duty, Edolus was just too close to delay landing. In truth, some part of Liara was grateful not to have had that conversation – she had no idea what she would say, and was immensely frightened of saying something which might cause Shepard to keep her at a distance permanently. But, that did not mean she did not want to talk to Shepard about the things she had seen. She needed to, and she felt Shepard needed to. Now, however…

Why had Shepard's attitude suddenly changed? Everything was going well between them… until Banes entered the picture. Shepard had been impressed, even empathetic after the fight with the thresher maw. And… Liara had seen the fear in her eyes when Banes had made her point her gun at him. Why, then, was she suddenly shutting Liara out? Could she have been afraid she might hurt Liara? What had she read on Banes' terminal that hardened her so? Shepard, despite what she liked others to think, was not a cruel person. She would not suddenly turn on Liara or berate her just for the sake of doing so.

Or… would she?

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Hold still, Commander, or I will sedate you!"

"Doc, I'm fine!" Shepard tried, in vain, to shake off Chakwas, who was insistently attending to the lacerations on her side. "Can you please fuck off, Doc? Don't Alenko and Vakarian need fussing over?"

"They are fine, Commander. Kaidan's barriers took the brunt of the damage. The concussions were the worst of it. I discharged them with strict instructions to get some rest. Now you…"

"Doc, for fucks' sakes, it's just a fucking scratch. And I know you're avoiding the goddamn subject." Shepard glared as Chakwas sighed, dressing her wound and finally meeting her gaze. "Look, Doc, I need to know what Banes' journal told you. I mean… I got the fucking gist but… you eggheads like your big fucking words."

A sad look crossed Chakwas' face before she almost instantly schooled it. Shepard noticed, however; nothing much escaped her. She chose to ignore it as Chakwas pulled up a chair, gesturing for her to sit in it. Hopping off the bed, she tugged her tank top over her head, before dropping into the seat, arms folded. Chakwas laid a hand on her shoulder, giving her a wan smile, before carefully lowering herself into another chair opposite Shepard.

"None of that breaking bad news communication skills shit, Doc. I'm a big girl. Just give it to me straight."

Chakwas' look was resigned. "Of course, Commander."

"That shit Banes pulled, making me take a shot at Liara… can it happen again?"

"I don't think so, Shepard. Banes' journal entry made it quite clear that the control drug… Imperium, is dependent on a finite store of glutamate. Glutamate is a chemical which can activate nerves, making them fire and hence controlling muscle groups. He was only able to target certain muscle groups, as opposed to individual muscle, which explains why your arms adopted the position they did… and why you were able to resist by antagonising them with the opposing muscle groups.

"Banes was presumably using a radio wave emitter to shatter pockets of glutamate held within the Imperium compound. I am presuming that all of it was exhausted when you found yourself in control of your faculties again."

"And the nova? The pain? What the fuck was that?"

"I am not sure, Commander. Banes' notes made no specific mention of that. The nova can be explained by Augere's amplification of your powers. It made your eezo nodes grow; it is possible Banes had some sort of device which could trigger a sudden bout of cell division and an abrupt increase in eezo node size. This would have been excruciating and extremely unstable, resulting in your pain and the subsequent discharge of energy in the form of a nova."

"Can it happen again?"

Chakwas shrugged. "If you meet Banes again and he has the same device, probably."

"Great. What the fuck do I do then?"

"It is risky, but you may consider administering yourself with some Corrumpebant."

Shepard stared at the doctor. "You fucking kidding me, Doc? Neutering my biotics on the battlefield?"

"It's better than being incapacitated and in agony, Commander."

Shepard sighed. "I am going to gouge out that fucker's eyes and skull fuck him with a turian's talons. That stupid piece of shit better pray and hope I never fucking catch up to him."

Shepard set her jaw, fixing the doctor with an expression of stone, her gaze icy. Her voice was quiet as she asked her last question. "Doc… there's more, isn't there. Banes' journal… he mentioned a limited lifespan."

Chakwas voice was sad as she nodded. "Yes, Commander. I'm afraid… one of the side-effects of Augere…

"Is cancer."


	19. Chapter 19: Amaranthine Reflections I

**A/N: First off, chapter 18 is no longer an author's note masquerading as a quasi chapter. So, go read it if you haven't already, otherwise you'll be in for quite a lot of confusion later. Secondly, this next chapter is actually two shorter chapters (19 and 20), because (1) there were too many "little" scenes – I was confusing myself; and (2) after all the *sniffles* I wanted to put in a lighter segment which would have jarred with some of the stuff in chapter 20. Don't worry; Shep will make an appearance in the next chapter… unless I get distracted by the monkey with the cymbals in my head ;)**

**Oh and… if you get confused as to who the character(s) in section 3 is (although I hope it's clear enough), the answer is at the bottom.**

******Lastly, there probably won't be an update tomorrow or Monday because of work… yeah, yeah, no cliffies... hope y'all have a good weekend :)**

* * *

Finch was standing with his back to her as she entered the room. He was staring out the window, looking at nothing in particular – after all, there was not much to look at in the slums of Earth. His hands were clasped behind him, and he stood stiffly, not bothering to turn, even as she cleared her throat. Despite the fact that she was standing a few metres away and could not see his face, she could still make out the cigarette sagging from the corner of his mouth, occasionally jerking upwards as he took a drag. A wisp of smoke drifted upwards as he waited for her to speak. _How cliché_, Ariadne thought with distaste, though she kept her expression neutral.

"You asked to see me." The question was more a statement of fact, curt and laced with an irritation she wanted him to know she was feeling.

Another puff, another careless rivulet of smoke, this one punctuated with a long exhalation of breath. Finch did not reply as he languidly picked the cigarette from his mouth, inspecting its dying embers disinterestedly. Eventually, he turned, flicking the butt casually in the general direction of the waste bin. As he watched his sister, he ran a hand over his slicked back hair – _as if it needs any more attention. There's enough gel in there to bind a cake_. His eyes were brown, like hers, but that was where the similarity ended. While hers were warm and vivacious, his were aloof, cold and taciturn.

The long scar running down the length of the right side of his face, interrupted by his eye, only accentuated his intimidating demeanour. In scorn, Ariadne traced the scar with a flick her eyes; while Finch's dogs were terrified of what the scar represented, she knew better. She knew that Finch had actually inflicted the injury on himself, using a sterile scalpel and a healthy dose of painkillers stolen from the local hospital. He thought the disfigurement would bring him more "street cred", as he had put it then. _Pathetic_.

"I suppose you've heard by now that Selvin failed to put down your dog."

Blithely ignoring his jibe, Ariadne raised her eyebrows in a sigh. "What of it?"

Suddenly, he was millimetres away from her face, so close she could barely focus on his face, although she could smell the stench of his tobacco and feel the prickle of his stubble against her chin all too well. "Goddamnit, Ari, Durant knows she's alive! I agreed to your fucking begging, _I_ agreed! Durant will have my fucking head for this if we don't kill the bitch now!" His spit clung to her face, mixed in with her sweat, a product of the sweltering heat in the room. In his anger, his hands clutched at her slender neck as his voice quietened dangerously. "She knew Selvin was coming; laid a trap.

"Did you warn her?"

She shot him a detached look, even as she calmly wrenched his fingers from her neck without moving her own. She was tempted to send him flying, but that would do her no good. Instead, she lifted him into the air, pushing him backwards with a flick of her eyes, before fixing him with a pointed glare. "I want her dead as much as you do. Maybe you should consider someone more capable next time."

"Don't give me that fucking bullshit, Ari. You may fool all those other dickwads Durant has pottering around but don't forget, I'm your brother. I _know_ you. I know your dirty little secret, just as well as I know what you have hanging around your neck." Ariadne had to fight not to instinctively clutch at the locket hidden underneath her shirt, its cool metal soothing the burning in her chest.

"Not a flinch… you're getting better at this, little sis…. Make no mistake, that bitch _will_ die, and you'll be there, pulling the trigger, or holding her squirming body still, when she does."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The moment her hand slapped down on the door's locking mechanism, Ariadne sank to her knees, her whole body trembling. 11 years… regret was one tenacious companion. The façade was becoming more and more difficult to maintain with each passing day. Initially, she had thought her wounds would heal, especially as six years passed without any news. There had been whisperings, of course, rumours that pirate forces were being decimated by a cold, ruthless Alliance biotic, but nothing concrete. Then, the flurry of reports about Torfan had appeared, burying Ariadne in stories of _her_ primal victory and the slavers who bore the brunt of her wrath. She thought she had forgotten, but…

_Finch, please! Don't let Durant kill her. I can't… I…_

_Don't be a fool, Ari! She's betrayed us to the Alliance! Durant will have her head for this… and ours if we keep it from him._

She was on her knees, clinging to her brother's hand, tears streaming down her face. She had thought Finch would understand, would help protect them from Durant. He was her big brother, after all. Now, even as her miserable eyes pleaded with him, she could feel her heart being wrenched from her chest.

_No, Finch! Finch… I… I love her. Please, brother… don't let him hurt her…_

Her brother's eyes were alight with a fire she had never seen. They were always so cold.

_I won't let her bring you down with her, Ari. The Alliance may have promised her sanctuary, but don't be so naïve as to think they'll welcome you with open arms, too! Or are you forgetting – _

_I… I'll leave her, Finch, I promise. But please… don't let him kill her._

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

I do not know whether to be relieved or repulsed by the sudden clarity I have been afforded. Since I have once again found my purpose, time has become immaterial, my world passing me by in a haze I have grown desperately accustomed to. I have been sent somewhere with a contingent of fighters – I cannot make out the men who will be my enemies, let alone their species or specific abilities I will have to contend with. I desperately want to lash out against my bonds, but I know I must bide my time, conserve my energy. My Little Wing is depending on me; I will not fail her again.

We have arrived on a frigid, barren world. The voices are muffled but there is deference in their tone – something I detect with ease as it is a quality I am well accustomed to. I can make out bodies bending at the waist, fumbling over themselves to fawn over me. Then, I am in a truck, the pinhole through which I see the world bobbing around senselessly, fixed to the same, maddening point. I can feel the nausea rising within me, although I have never known myself to be intolerant of motion. We arrive at our destination. I leave some of my companions behind, although I am unable to ascertain the purpose of this. I am led further into the compound; I am so lost I find myself praying to the Goddess for a ball of twine, that I may find my way out again.

Suddenly, the world around me is awash with colour. Its vibrancy nearly blinds me; I have become so habituated to the drab sea of grey. A regal voice rings out, clear to me as the chirping of birds in the morning, the rustling of leaves in a breeze. It is then that I realise that it is not merely a voice; it is music. I can almost feel myself soaring free of my cell, the nails which bind me immaterial. It is a song, a chorus, a symphony. The treble is tremulous, the bass echoing my heartbeat. The harmony crescendos and decrescendos, like crests and troughs of the tide sweeping in against an idyllic beach. It is at once soft, its gentle caress leading me down one path of reasoning, before the _forte_ kicks in, sweeping me off my feet amidst the onrushing flood of war.

Somehow, inexplicably, the music paints a picture in my mind's eye – I remember the humans have a term for this… synaesthesia. The colours come together, forming images.

_I am surrounded by my children; we are building great structures to honour our clan, even as I send some of them off to the other queens bearing tributes which will foster further peace and development. I sing to them as they board their ships, bidding them be safe on their travels, already longing for their return even before they leave. _

_Then, suddenly, my peace is shattered. The music is ruined by dissonance, its tension demanding a transition to a stable harmony which never manifests. The sound is harsh; the urge for conflict and strife is overwhelming. The colours change – gone are the warm pastel palettes; they have been replaced by callous, jarring paints. Flashes of complementary colours distract me, and my canvas dissolves. _

_In a panic, I realise my children are no longer mine. They are flooding towards me, tearing me limb from limb. A terrible screech fills the air, a flash of red leaving my progeny charred and dead. My futile wails fill the air the other song overwhelms my own. It is vile and repulses me. I try to shield my brood, but they are compelled to listen._

Stop! I lash out against my cell, longing for the music to return. An evil cackle is all I hear; with a chill, I realise the voice is my own. I realise now that my clarity is the result of a meld, the three of us trapped within my – _our_ – minds. My other self is sickeningly relishing in the distress the memory is causing the third. I reach out, trying to calm it, protect it, before I recoil in horror. A rachni queen? Suddenly, the war stories come flooding back. The rachni are a blight; no sense exhausting myself on their behalf.

I resign myself to my cell, watching the vicious torture with an apathy I never thought myself capable of.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Dump all our stock in Denarius Aerospace."

"Sir, of course, but as your broker and advisor I should warn you that the turian company's quarterly reports are staggering – they've overturned a record profit. Plus, my sources within the corporation tell me the next report will be even more astounding. The turian military in cooperation with the Alliance apparently sub-contracted out construction of different parts of a prototype stealth vessel. Denarius hit the jackpot, winning the contract for the drive core. If the vessel performs to expectations, Denarius will be manufacturing on a massive scale – their profits, and yours, sir, would be astronomical."

"Mr Ealing, your concerns are noted. However, I pay you for your speed on the trading floor, not your vision. See to it that our stock is ditched."

Without waiting for a response, Jack Harper terminated the call with a flick of his finger. His steely blue eyes fixed in thought, he raised his tumbler to his lips, taking a sip of his Scotch whiskey and savouring its woody flavour, the smoky burn in his mouth. Briefly, he contemplated lighting another cigarette, before deciding it could wait. Swirling his glass deliberately in one hand, he tapped open another comm line.

"Yes?"

"Leng. Denarius Aerospace is in possession of some plans which belong to humanity and humanity alone. Please, relieve them of the data, and go ahead with the operational sabotage we discussed earlier."

"With pleasure."

Just as the hologram of Kai Leng vanished, Harper became aware of the heels clicking against his well-polished floor. Without turning, he paused only to dip his head and light a cigarette, taking a long drag before speaking.

"Ms Lawson. I was under the impression I had made it clear that I was not to be disturbed."

The woman seemed completely unperturbed by his admonishment, instead holding out a datapad. "You'll want to see this," she said simply.

"What is it?" Harper's eyes narrowed as he read, even as he asked his question.

"Commander Shepard's latest medical report. Doctor Chakwas deemed it important enough to be forwarded directly to Captain Anderson via secure Alliance channels."

"Has anyone seen this?"

"Negative. In addition to all the Normandy's outgoing lines, I have all of Anderson's lines flagged. Anything from the Normandy or Arcturus is held until I clear it."

Harper nodded, finally raising his eyes to meet Miranda's disinterested gaze. "Erase it. Have one of our forgery teams send Chakwas a reply. I trust you with the content. Shepard is too valuable to be side-lined by this. And get in touch with Banes. Tell him I'd like to speak to him."

Without any sort of acknowledgement, Miranda turned, her omni-tool already alight as she started carrying out her instructions. She stopped, however, when the Illusive Man spoke again.

"And Ms Lawson… good job. I believe you are ready for your own long-term project…"

Miranda did not answer, instead waiting for the Illusive Man to continue. The offer was hardly the highest compliment – she had headed multiple cells and led a few long-term projects before, after all. When he finished his sentence, however, her unflappable demeanour faltered for a split-second, and she blinked.

"Commander Shepard."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Joker cradled his head in his hands, wishing the mess would quieten down so he could have some peace. His ears were blocked, the way they got when you changed altitudes too quickly, and all the noise had an annoying echo to it. The Normandy had been docked at the Citadel for a few hours now. He would have thought the moment Shepard had left the ship, everyone would be clambering to go ashore and enjoy the 72 hours of shore leave she had so uncharacteristically granted them. Instead, here they were, milling about, disrupting his peace.

"Good evening, Joker!"

Joker winced, bringing a hand to his ear. "Owww Tali, shhh, not so loud, or are you intending for the Migrant Fleet to hear you as well?"

He could not see the expression on the quarian's face, but from the way her head jerked backwards slightly before she inclined it to one side, he could tell she was confused.

"Excuse Joker's bad manners, Tali… he's got an unfortunate bout of man flu." Ashley's dry voice cut in as she sat down beside the quarian, slapping her lightly on the back as she did so. "Here, got you your drink."

Joker coughed indignantly as he glared at Ashley. He sniffled dramatically, even as he gingerly wiped the back of his hand under his nose. "What Chief Williams means to say is… I have the _flu_."

Ashley snorted, leaning over to Tali with a smirk. "He wouldn't know the flu if it slapped him in the face." Tali giggled, a sound which caused Joker to scowl in annoyance.

"What is this man flu you speak of?" Tali asked. Joker could not tell if she was being genuine or if the innocence in her voice was feigned in an attempt at mockery. Ashley flashed a shit-eating grin, obviously delighted at the opportunity to educate the quarian.

"Man flu is a devastating, debilitating disorder which randomly afflicts exclusively male members of the human species. Men deny its existence, going so far as to label it a derogative term invented by females who do not understand the incapacitating nature of the disease."

Tali clapped a hand over her helmet with a gasp; now Joker was sure she was taking the piss. _Women_. "Is Joker going to be ok, Ashley? Does man flu kill?"

Ashley shook her head sagely, her expression completely serious, although Joker swore she was fighting a snort. "Make no mistake, Tali… man flu is a serious malady. If, by some miracle, it does not kill, it will surely leave the man completely bereft of strength, in agony and in dire need of tender loving care."

"Is it painful?"

"Oh yes… poor Joker must be in agony. Human population censuses have shown that the pain of man flu is comparable to that of childbirth. Only… men claim man flu is worse, since childbirth usually lasts no more than a day, whilst man flu can go on for weeks."

"Oh Joker! You poor thing! How can I help?"

"I'm afraid you can't Tali… all clinical trials have shown only one effective cure. The man must retire to the nearest sofa or bed with complete, uninterrupted mollycoddling by his girlfriend or wife. Her duties include handing him the remote to the TV – and pressing the buttons for him if he is too weak to do so, bringing him any comfort food he requests and dutifully holding up his favoured men's magazine, turning the pages for him. Unfortunately, since Joker doesn't have a girlfriend…"

"Lt Alenko seems very helpful, maybe I should get him to come and take care of Joker?"

Ashley's expression was horrified. "Tali… how could you? Man flu is extremely contagious… the only thing worse than a man with man flu is two men with man flu!"

Joker's mouth hung agape as he stared at the women opposite him. _What did I do to deserve this?_ At his expression, neither of them could contain themselves any longer, breaking out into a fit of giggles.

"C'mon Tali… I think Joker needs to go to the med bay… he's obviously extremely ill. You and me? We're hitting Flux." With that, both women stood, thankfully leaving him in peace as he dropped his head to the table, feeling very sorry for himself indeed.

* * *

**A/N: the character in section 3 is Benezia. She is obtaining information about the Mu Relay from the rachni queen.**


	20. Chapter 20: Amaranthine Reflections II

**Part 2 of a chapter... See chapter 19 first if you haven't already.**

* * *

"Lt Alenko?" Kaidan looked up from his workstation, surprised to see the shy archaeologist standing in front of him. Her head was inclined slightly, her eyebrows raised as she looked up shyly at him. He was not sure if she realised, but she was chewing furiously on her lower lip, and her hands looked like they might shred a hole in her tunic. He could not help but notice how snugly the tunic fit around her waist. It accentuated her hips perfectly… if only she would stop tugging at it.

"Dr T'Soni! Please… it's Kaidan. How're you feeling?"

"I am well, but… I am not the one who suffered a concussion."

Kaidan smiled gently, waving a hand dismissively in the air. "Our annual bonuses are tied to the number of injuries we suffer on the battlefield."

The asari's eyes widened in horror, her jaw dropping. "Th-that is barbaric! I knew humans could be brutal but that is… oh! Not that I meant to insult your species, I –"

Kaidan interrupted her with a soft chuckle, patting her gently on the shoulder. "Relax, doctor… it was just a joke."

"A… a joke? Oh Goddess!" Liara raised a hand to her forehead, her eyes flickering to the floor. "You must think me so dense!"

"It's quite endearing, actually. So, doctor, what can I do for you?"

"Please Kaidan, call me Liara." She paused as he nodded his assent. "Kaidan… I came to ask your advice."

Kaidan blinked. _Of all the people… I would have thought she'd go to Chakwas… or Williams, even_. "Of course, Liara. Shoot. Errr…. I mean, fire away. Ahem. Sorry. Ask away."

Liara's confused expression dissolved into one of understanding as Kaidan corrected himself. "As you know, I am… inexperienced in matters of friendship. Even more so when it comes to humans. I… I find myself wondering what social norms dictate in certain situations, what friends would be expected to do or not to do." Kaidan said nothing, allowing the asari to continue with an encouraging nod. "I… well, Kaidan, if you had a friend in distress, would you go to them?"

"Absolutely," Kaidan replied, without a beat's hesitation.

"Even if they pushed you away, or didn't want your help?"

At this, Kaidan's eyes narrowed, thinking back to the odd sight he had seen at the Citadel; Liara clinging to the Commander, both a little dazed and gravely wounded. "Is there someone in particular you're seeking this advice on, Liara?"

"N-no," the asari answered quickly, her eyes once again shifting to the floor.

_She's lying… and there's only one human I know who could scare the shit out of someone so badly. Poor kid's in for a rough ride. Then again, if the Commander needs help, she certainly ain't gonna ask one of us… who else if not Liara or the doc?_

"Friends are always there for each other, Liara. Even if they don't want you there, sometimes, you just have to wait till they're ready. Often it's enough if they know you're there if they change their mind, that you're only a phone call or a walk across the hall away."

Liara swallowed, finally meeting Kaidan's concerned look again. "I… of course… thank you, Kaidan."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard trudged along the lower markets, listlessly taking in the fare on sale as she moved. No one would recognise her as an Alliance soldier, much less Commander Shepard, decorated N7 marine, first human Spectre, yadda, yadda, yadda. She was wearing a baseball cap pulled low over her face, a non-descript tank top and a pair of slim-fitting jeans. On her feet, she wore flip flops, which made a careless flapping noise as she dragged her heels. They were a luxury she had not afforded herself in years. Ellison would have given her hell in boot for her posture; she was slouching, both hands in the pockets of her jeans as she plodded along. Then again, he would probably be even less thrilled if he found out she was wandering the Citadel completely unarmed.

Stopping only to purchase various ingredients and an ample supply of alcohol, she made her way back to the small apartment she had rented. She needed the time away from the Normandy to gather her thoughts; hopefully nothing requiring her immediate attention would come up in the three days she had allowed herself. That would be a sure-fire way to an… undiplomatic resolution. _Hmph. As if you ever fucking resolved things diplomatically_.

The elevator opened with a chime, and she entered her apartment, dropping her bags to the floor without a care as to what might be bruised by the impact. Dropping down onto the sofa, she let her head flop back as she stared at the ceiling. Not even bothering to pour the contents into a tumbler, she opened the whiskey bottle with her teeth, taking a healthy swig the moment she had spat the cap to the side.

_Cancer._

She raised her free hand, turning it over in the air, inspecting it. She half-expected to see angry tumours eating their way out of her skin, devouring her. But, it looked completely normal. She felt completely normal. Could Chakwas have been mistaken? Maybe she was different from the others. Maybe she got lucky…

_Jesus fucking Christ, will you listen to yourself? You're a real fucking dumbass, you know? Denial ain't gonna do shit._

She sighed angrily as she took another gulp of the burning liquid, Chakwas' conversation replaying again and again in her head.

_How long, Doc?_

_Chakwas smiled sadly, placing a gentle hand on her knee. _

_It's hard to say, Shepard. Patients always think we can give a magic number, but in reality…_

_Doc, fuck's sakes. Fine. Best and worst case._

_Best case? Decades. Worst case? A couple of months. Either is highly unlikely. Shepard… there's no telling how you might respond to it, how you might respond to treatment. From preliminary biopsies and scans, most of your eezo nodes appear not to be actively dividing. Only a couple are, and we can remove those._

_That a cure?_

_I can't say for sure. Not until you're in remission for a few years. But… Shepard. You need to go home. Your life is worth so much more than this war you're waging._

_Doc, I'm a marine. I'm not some dumb idealistic fuck like Summers. I always knew I probably wouldn't see retirement. Hell, I sure as fuck never thought I'd see 30… I mean, 30's fucking old… no offense. I've been trained to hunt down all manner of criminal scum and kill them in every way imaginable. Pigs will fucking fly the day I choose to die sick and alone in a fucking hospice. My place is out there, showing monkeyfuckers like Saren exactly why you don't _fuck_ with the Alliance or its people._

_Don't be so quick to martyr yourself, Commander. More people care about you than you bring yourself to believe. It's only been a few weeks, and already this entire crew looks up to you. Ashley in particular worships you and… Shepard I don't know if you really are that dense or if you're just protecting yourself, but that asari… Liara. She cares desperately about you. If no one else, let her be a friend to you._

_The fuck, Doc, you on aci–_

_Shepard I know you're not as shallow as you make yourself out to be. I also know you're as stubborn as a mule, so don't admit anything if you don't want to. Just… take what I've said into consideration. _

Liara. What the hell she saw in Shepard, the Commander would never know. She drank another mouthful of alcohol, before swinging her legs over the side of the sofa, bringing herself into a sit and cradling her forehead in her hands. Liara had seen all of Shepard's deeply guarded secrets. No one, not even Ari, had known the full extent of her past, about her father, her mother. _Mum…_

Finally, someone else she could tell everything to. It almost felt like she had been running with a lead vest on without knowing it, and that Liara had seen and removed that vest. She felt like she could breathe, maybe even have room for other experiences now. As she thought about it, she found herself desperately longing for Liara's company, if only to have someone to share this new burden with.

_You're a fucking selfish ass, Shepard. You're a fucking ticking time bomb now. You want a friend and the only reason you fucking want one is so _she_ can help you? Fuck, that's low, even for you. What happens to her when, a few years down the line, you're six feet underground? _

Sighing, she roughly pulled both her hands over her head, slapping them down on her knees as she stood. She was famished – she realised she had not eaten since the last time she was on the Citadel. Trudging over to her carelessly discarded shopping, she picked up the bags and walked into the kitchen. She had always liked to cook – ever since… well, she did not want to think about that. And anyway, it was how she had won Ari over in the first place.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard tossed a clove of shallots up into the air, effortlessly catching it with her other hand. Shallots were a variety of onion, much smaller with a milder flavour. They were favoured in Southeast Asain cooking, as well as by some self-styled gourmets in Europe. Shepard usually preferred strong flavours, and onions had a special place in her heart. But… for this particular purpose, shallots were the only option she would even consider.

She opened the drawer, picking out a knife and running her thumb over the blade to ensure it was sharp. There was nothing more irritating than trying to slice shallots – or any other vegetable, for that matter, with a blunt blade. Satisfied, she was just about to start peeling the first clove, when the doorbell rang.

"The fuck?"

Only a handful of people – Chakwas, Joker and Alenko, knew where she was. All three of them knew better than to interrupt her when she had left them with explicit instructions not to. Even then, they would have to be fucking suicidal to turn up unannounced. Silently hoping it was someone who had rung the doorbell in error, she ignored it, turning her attention back to the clove of shallots in her hand.

Then, the doorbell rang again, although the note stuttered through the air; almost as if the person on the other side of the door had pressed the buzzer so lightly and hesitantly that, for a split-second, it had lost contact with the circuit. Cursing, she stalked towards the door, knife in hand but the blade hidden behind her forearm. She slammed her free hand against the wall panel, glaring at the intruder as the door hissed open.

"Fuck, I said n–" Her eyes widened momentarily as she blinked in shock. "Dr T'Soni. I apologise… I was not expecting you… how did you know where to find me?"

The asari was not in her usual tunic. She had slipped into a simple but elegant gown, which fell gracefully from her frame. It sat snugly in all the right places; while it was conservative, it was also incredibly… gorgeous. Shepard grit her teeth, forcing herself not to shift her eyes from Liara's apologetic gaze.

"Commander… I apologise for the intrusion. Dr Chakwas told me where to find you – _course she did. Fucking meddler _– and I was hoping… I was hoping you might be agreeable to some company."

Shepard's first instinct was to lash out, to berate the asari for intruding on time she had explicitly stated was to be hers and hers alone. Just as the words formed in her throat, however, her mind drifted back to what Chakwas had said. _That asari… Liara. She cares desperately about you. If no one else, let her be a friend to you._ She sighed, even as her shoulders sagged a little. "You sure about this, Monday? I'm in a fucking awful mood and feel like everyone around me is a politician. And you know how much I _love_ politicians…"

Liara flashed that endearingly bashful smile. "I am sure, Shepard."

Shepard turned her body to the side, gesturing with a sweep of her arm and a sarcastic little bow. "Well… come on in then... Drink?"

"That would be lovely, thank you."

"What're you having? I've got… whiskey, whiskey and whiskey. Oh and some Cabernet Sauvignon, but I've got dibs on that for… well… ahem… you'll see."

Liara looked a bit confused. "I… I am afraid I am not familiar with any of the names you just mentioned. Please, Shepard, do not trouble yourself. Water will be very sufficient."

Shepard snorted, even as she gestured for Liara to take a seat. "Fuck, Monday… we're on shore leave. Actually… I've just remembered I left a nice stash here the last time I rented it. Hmm… let's see. Sour or sweet?"

"I… well, I suppose I like a bit of both, but more sweet than sour. But, Shepard, really, it is no trouble. As I said, water will be enough for me."

"Wait here." Shepard disappeared back into the storeroom, Liara watching the doorway nervously as the sounds of the Commander rummaging through boxes filled the air. "Aha!" Liara barely had a chance to speak as Shepard disappeared into the kitchen again, before emerging with two glasses of white wine.

"Try this… it's a Gewurztraminer. I… it was my mother's favourite. I saw this bottle often at home when I was a kid."

Liara blinked, and for a while, Shepard thought she might have over-stepped her bounds. She was just about to set the wine glasses aside, when Liara stood and reached for the pro-offered glass. As she did so, her fingers brushed lightly against Shepard's, the contact going unnoticed by neither woman. Even so, they chose to ignore the potentially-awkward situation, Shepard clearing her throat as she took a seat, indicating for Liara to do the same. For a quiet moment, they both sipped at their drinks. Shepard watched Liara closely, smirking as her hesitant expression turned into one of surprised delight.

"Thank you, Shepard, this is… I do not quite know how to describe it."

"You should hear the hyperbole the pompous fuckers who figure themselves wine aficionados spout, then… it'll give you an endless supply of words for the next time. And, if you think it's rich and aromatic now, you should try it when it's properly chilled. I've put the bottle on ice, so you can judge for yourself."

Liara dipped her head slightly. _Is she embarrassed? What the fuck for?_ "Shepard, you don't need to go through such trouble on my behalf. I… I don't know how to thank you. I'm afraid I don't even know your first name. How silly is that, not to know your own fri–"

"It's Jessica," Shepard said quietly, smiling almost sadly. "I haven't used it in years. The last person who called me by my first name… well… let's just say it's someone I'm keen on forgetting."

"Ariadne?" The question was out before Liara's hand flew across her mouth, a horrified expression on her face. "Shepard, I am sorry… I did not mean to pry."

Shepard shrugged, but kept her gaze fixed on some distant point.

"May I ask what it means?"

A snort, as Shepard turned her eyes back to Liara. "It's derived from a Hebrew name meaning 'foresight'. Ironic, huh, given that Prothean shit I have in my head…"

"Shepard… it is beautiful."

For a while, both sat in silence as each contemplated what had just been said. Shepard could not remember the last time she had even spoken her first name to anyone… since Ari, of course. Just before the silence got awkward, she cleared her throat.

"So… Monday. You hungry?"

Liara looked a bit surprised. "You do not need to cater for me, Shepard. I merely came to see you."

"Fuck's sakes, Monday. When a human offers you food, fucking accept it already."

"I… of course, Shepard. What did you have in mind? I have almost no culinary experience whatsoever, having lived on packaged rations at my dig sites for the past 50 years."

Shepard grinned broadly. "Well, Monday… about fucking time you learned how to cook."


	21. Chapter 21: Surprise!

**A/N: sorry for the delay… work's a jealous lover. Silly fluff warning for this chapter… sorry, I know I'm not great at it but it's needed for plot advancement (aka lolwut I fell in love after talking history and culture for a few minutes?) Also, my rota was apparently conceived by Satan himself, so I have no idea when the next update will be. Sorry – I hate to leave projects hanging, trust me :(**

* * *

Shepard stood and started heading towards the kitchen, flicking her fingers in a gesture for Liara to follow. Liara sat rooted to her seat for a moment – she did not know whether to be mortified or thrilled at the prospect of Shepard cooking. None of the crew had ever spoken the words "Shepard" or "Commander" and "kitchen" in the same conversation, let alone the same sentence. She was delighted that the Commander was sharing a side of herself which obviously few people knew of, but she was filled with apprehension nonetheless. She had seen Shepard in action… she had a reckless abandon which, if translated to her endeavours in the kitchen, could only end in… disaster.

She shuddered internally as she sub-consciously looked around the apartment for sprinkler systems, fire extinguishers – _really, Liara? Who would keep fire extinguishers lying around their apartment? Ok… don't answer that…_ – or an escape hatch. She chewed furiously on the inside of her mouth when she saw none, before letting out a small breath of relief when she spied the exhaust vent in the kitchen corner. _At least we won't die from inhalation of toxic fumes_. She drained the rest of her wine quickly, grateful for the slight buzz she was starting to feel; Goddess, it had been far too long since she had indulged in alcohol. She was about to get to her feet and trail Shepard into the kitchen, when the Commander stopped in the doorway, half-turning.

"Wait… Monday… you aren't a friggin herbivore, are you?"

Liara blinked. She assumed "friggin" was one of the Commander's colourful superlatives, even if she had not heard it before. But her translator had interpreted her next word as "lembu". Liara's jaw was slack as the mental image of the four-legged, lumbering animal came to mind, its blank stare as it tepidly chomped on grass in that sideways chewing motion children were so fond of mimicking. _Did she just call me a tubby, obtuse glutton with an oversized behind?_

"Err… Earth to Dr T'Soni… hello?"

Liara cleared her throat, shaking her head lightly. "I apologise, Shepard, but I believe my translator did not interpret your question properly. It seems to believe you called me a domesticated animal we have back on Thessia."

Shepard raised an eyebrow, before a cheeky smirk danced across her face. "Oh really… and what animal would that be?"

The asari could feel her cheeks heating as she spoke, her eyes flicking to the floor; she wished she had more of that wine. "It is a rather large… I suppose the equivalent in human taxonomy would be 'mammal'. It is, as you would put it, not the pointiest apparatus in the shed. Its meat is used in all manner of cooking, from cheap street fare to the most lavish restaurants on Thessia. Its hide is used to make an extravagant fabric, most frequently utilised in the manufacture of jackets popular with maidens. Sometimes, we add the juice from its teat to –"

Shepard made a barking nose which caused Liara to glance up in alarm; it was then she realised the Commander was actually laughing. "You think I called you a _cow_?"

Again, Liara's translator was unable to make sense of the word, but seeing Shepard laughing made Liara smile. Soon, she too was chuckling softly, hiding her bemused smile behind her hand as she ducked her head shyly.

"I assure you, Monday, a cow you most certainly are not… and by the way, it's 'not the sharpest tool in the shed', but good try… C'mon… you're not getting out of cooking that easily."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard found herself barely able to suppress a smile as she leaned against the doorway and watched Liara examine the assembled ingredients. The asari had an inquisitiveness of a toddler in a new play pen. Shepard found it delightfully… refreshing. She snorted as she saw Liara pick up a clove of garlic, turning it over in her hands before taking a deep whiff; the time Ari had cheekily burped into her mouth after a healthy serving of garlic bread was not exactly her fondest memory of their time together.

She mentally slapped herself as she realised she was staring; she was silently grateful the asari's attention was otherwise focussed elsewhere. _Really, Shep? Has it been that fucking long that you have to gawk at every bit of eye candy that comes sauntering past? Fucks' sakes._ Shaking her head, she moved to refill their glasses with the now-chilled Gewurztraminer. Quickly lifting her glass to her lips while Liara's back was still turned, she closed her eyes as she savoured its sweet, pumpkin spice flavour.

"So, Monday… I was going to take my time with this particular meal, but if you're hungry, I know of a short cut."

Liara glanced up from the stalk of celery she had been tracing her finger over, a barely-contained look of wonder on her face. _Who the hell gets off on celery?_ "Oh, Shepard, please do not let me intrude on your plans. I am not yet hungry and," she gestured to the afternoon glow in the window, "it is early still."

In truth, Shepard was so ravenous she had not intended on making a proper stock. The ingredients were there in case she changed her mind, but up until the doorbell had rung, she had fully intended on compromising with the pre-made stock cubes stuffed away in the storage locker. However, she found herself inexplicably enjoying Liara's company; the asari had an uncanny ability to temper Shepard's irate emotions, even if she herself did not know it. Since Shepard did not know how to convey to Liara that she would like her to stay, however, extending the "lesson" seemed like the best course of action. A wistful smile crossed her face as she admitted this to herself. _Tread lightly, you fucking ass, or are you forgetting the real reason you wanted to be alone for three days?_

Somewhat exasperated at the tiring internal conflict, Shepard decided to give Liara the chance to change her mind. "You sure, T'Soni? It'll be five hours before you even get a whiff of food. And there won't even be much to do for the majority of those five hours but talk to me… and we all know how fucking delightful that prospect is."

Shepard half-blinked when Liara actually hummed softly in response, a contented smile on her face. "Your company is what I came here for, Shepard. I am sure."

"Alright Monday," she gestured to the half-filled wine glass which she had set on the counter. "Better drink up, then… you're gonna need it."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara blinked fiercely, trying to force back the tears. Shepard had quickly halved and quartered what she had called carrots, leeks and celery while a large pile of bones sat roasting in the oven. Liara certainly hoped Shepard did not expect her to try and get any sort of nourishment off said bones. While the smell was undoubtedly enticing, the heap had been unsightly and slightly nauseating – blood was still dripping off them as she dumped them onto the oven tray. Now, she had started peeling and quartering the round, layered sphere she had called an onion, a strange look coming over her face, and Liara's eyes were burning.

"You ok, Liara? You look like someone with Tourette's about to have an epileptic fit."

"I am fine, Shepard. My eyes are just stinging a little." Desperate to divert Shepard's attention from her ridiculous blinking, she cleared her throat and changed the subject. "Shepard, a few days ago Ashley seemed surprised when she learned I am 106 years old. I am afraid I am not well-versed in human physiology. I know that you are not a long-lived species, but I do not know what the typical lifespan is, or how quickly humans mature."

Shepard snorted as she carelessly rolled the quartered onions to one side, picking out some thyme and bay leaves and setting them down on the now-cleared chopping board. "Let's just say by the time I'm 106, I'll be shrivelled and dry, completely disinterested in sex, and having hot flushes and episodes of night sweats necessitating laundry in the mornings."

Seeing the bewildered expression on Liara's face, Shepard laughed. "I take it you asari don't have anything akin to a menopause… lucky fuckers. Well, we usually live to about 150, although the eggheads – uh, no offense – keep yapping on about how we'll be hitting 200 with 'intergalactic scientific cooperation, progression and advancement'."

"I see… and when do humans usually mature?"

The look on Shepard's face was one of utter amusement as she poured oil onto the pan which had been heating up on the stove. Liara thought it brought a youthfulness and calm to her features that were utterly enchanting; it saddened her a little to think of the memories weighing upon the human.

"Believe it or not, some never mature… I wouldn't be surprised if Joker's still wearing a fucking diaper. But, if you're talking physically and _typically_ mentally, then most humans will have matured by 18."

"18… an asari would barely be entering childhood! If you don't mind me asking, Shepard, how old are you?"

The Commander shot her a sideways glance as the air sizzled with the sound of vegetables being fried in turn. "I'll be 30 in a few hours."

Liara blinked. "In a few hours? Goddess… Shepard… it's your birthday tomorrow?"

"Yeah… 30. Jesus fucking Christ, there's one bloody milestone I never thought I'd see… or even want to see. Maybe I should start shopping for anti-aging creams or putting cucumbers over my eyes when I go to bed. Maybe I'll grow my hair out so I can tie it in a ponytail so fucking tight, I'd have a DIY facelift… whaddya think, Monday?"

_It's her birthday and no one knows! _Liara was suddenly beset by an overwhelming desire to do something for Shepard, something to celebrate the occasion. She had no idea how humans approached birthdays, but she made a mental note to ask Ashley the following morning. Perhaps they could come up with something and surprise Shepard the next evening. _If she does not shoot us first_.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

_I'm going to fucking kill Joker_.

That was the first thought on Kaidan's mind as he furiously tried to hide the combination of utter dismay and horror which was swiftly manifesting on his face. The woman – if you could call her that – who had plonked herself down opposite him was nothing short of ghastly.

_She's a DD cup, easy, Alenko! And she likes a man in a uniform. Look, you might as well take me up on the offer… after all, with your charm, _Stiffler_, three days ain't nearly enough to even get a peek of booty._

DD she might well have been, but Joker was away with the fairies if he thought that could even remotely compensate for the rest of her. Her hair was dyed a sickly shade – and combination – of green and pink, while her eye shadow was a garish shade of blue. It contrasted horribly with the excessively dark eyeliner and black lipstick. Speaking of her mouth… _does she really have to chew like that?_ As if she was something straight out of a poorly-directed high school drama, his "date" was chewing a piece of bubble gum with careless abandon, the chomping rivalling even the ambient music in decibel magnitude. He winced when a bubble suddenly inflated between them, showering his face with spittle as it popped.

"Buenas noches! You must be Keith!"

_Jesus Christ, she smells like rotting fish straight out of the gates of Hell. I can't decide what's worse… that breath or her nasal voice… and what's with the tacky Spanish? Quick! Tell her you're not Keith and run!_

Swallowing the rest of the drink he had been nursing, he mentally cursed his upbringing and the manners which had been drilled into him. "It's Kaidan, actually… Janice, I presume?"

_Please let her be interesting at least_.

"OH! MY! GAWWWD! HAW HAW HAW. SOWWEEE!"

_I think my testicles have retracted._

Kaidan dejectedly let his eyes wander over those DD breasts; right now, he would take a year of dryness over Rotting Fish. It was with horror that he realised that the top she was wearing had left her midriff bare; he might have appreciated the sight if not for the ghastly tattoo which took up her entire abdomen. Obviously, she had intended for it to accentuate her DDs, but Kaidan could not think of a more revolting way to go about doing so. The tattoo appeared to be a poor replica of the titan Atlas, his head bowed as he took the weight of her breasts on each shoulder. Kaidan shuddered as his eyes passed over Atlas' erect penis.

_Joker, you fucking wanker._

"So Joker tells me you's a lieutenant," Janice was leaning in so close Kaidan had to breathe through his mouth. Another unwelcome bubble intrusion. "I'm an artist innit. See? I made this calendar just now… just can't fink of a name to sell it under."

_How about "My Days are Numbered?" _

Politely, Kaidan took the pro-offered "booklet", flipping through the pages. It looked like a toddler with a red, green and blue crayon (yes, those were apparently the only three choices) had gone on a drug-addled graffiti spree.

_Jesus Christ, just because no one understands it doesn't make it art!_

Desperate to find any excuse to get away from the booth-turned-sewer, Kaidan quickly cleared his throat. "So… uh… Janice… care for a drink?"

"I'll ave what you's havin, won't I?"

_Kill me. Kill me now._

At the bar, Kaidan hastily downed a row of five shots in quick succession, before taking two double mixers back to the booth. He figured he was going to need all the Dutch courage available to last the night with good ole' Janice. He set the drinks down, briefly considering if it was worth figuring out if there was a position to sit in which would be upwind of her.

_Alright Alenko… just man up and sit down._

His eyes widened as Janice's hand snaked up his leg. She shot him a wink so greasy he bet he could fry potatoes in it. Before he had time to react (in his defence, his reactions were slowed by the drinks…), she was shoving her tongue down his throat, her hands kneading his groin like a baker taking to dough.

_For fucks' sakes, Alenko, run!_

He was somewhat alarmed when he realised he was actually getting an erection.

_And that's the sound of your self-esteem being flushed down the toilet._

Kaidan did not know whether to be grateful or upset when he was suddenly overcome by a gagging sensation. In horror, he realised that he had inadvertently inhaled some of that vile bubble gum. He gasped as he stumbled into a stand, bending over even as he tried to reach for the gum without inducing another bout of gagging.

"Good God, you sound like a bloody yak trying to clear a hairball." Strong arms gripped him from behind, thrusting backwards in what he was sure was an overly-enthusiastic Heimlich manoeuvre. The piece of gum flew from his mouth, landing with a satisfying slap on Janice's face.

"Thank you," he rasped, turning to face his would-be saviour.

The blood (and his jaw) drained from his face as he stared at a smirking Ashley, who was surrounded by an obviously amused, chortling assembly of the Normandy's crew.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Liara smiled stupidly as she nursed the wine in her glass. They had finished two bottles of Gewurztraminer before Shepard had insisted on moving on to something a little heartier in preparation for dinner. She had claimed not to have anything appropriate, and so had nipped out to "get supplies", insisting Liara stay to keep skimming the stock which had been bubbling away for over five hours now.

In truth, Liara had barely noticed the time. She had been apprehensive at first at the thought of coming to find the Commander, fully expecting a rebuke; Dr Chakwas had warned her that Shepard had left strict instructions saying she was not to be disturbed. She was pleasantly surprised when Shepard had relented, and even more so when the Commander's authoritative air seemed to dissolve. Maybe it was being off the Normandy and out of uniform, or maybe it was the wine and the whiskey she had evidently consumed before; Liara could not be sure, but, whatever it was, she was grateful for it.

They had talked for most of the five hours, with Shepard occasionally rising to skim the "fat and scum" from the simmering stock. Something about it becoming cloudy and greasy otherwise. _Actually, Liara, you talked for most of the five hours; Shepard was patient enough to listen_. The Commander had been evasive when Liara had attempted to ask her about herself, only going into detail about impersonal matters such as the Alliance command structure, the ICT training program and a description of Earth itself. She had only spoken briefly about one personal topic. In fairness to her, Liara had not really attempted to pry, respecting the human's need for privacy until she was ready to open up. At least, she hoped Shepard would share whatever was troubling her eventually; she might just have to pluck up the courage to ask otherwise. She lifted her glass to her lips, finishing off the last of the surprisingly-enjoyable wine as her thoughts drifted.

_So, tell me about your mother, Monday._

_Liara's smile faltered, her entire body stiffening slightly as she blinked. An apologetic look crossed Shepard's face, before instantly being buried as she turned her attention towards her wine._

_M-my mother?_

_I just thought… hearing your stories about Armali, about running around in the garden looking for "ruins"… I bet your mum had something to say about that. But… hey, it's ok if you don't want to talk about it. _

_N-no, I was just surprised, that is all. We have not spoken in two years… I am embarrassed to say we did not speak much either while I was away on digs. I think she was… mortified that I chose archaeology as a profession. She was ashamed of me._

_How anyone could ever be ashamed of you, Liara, I have no fucking clue. You're smarter than the whole of the Normandy – including Tali – put together, and you have a heart of gold. I say Benezia can take her crests and crest fuck herself with them if she's ashamed of you. Fuck her._

_I – that is kind of you to say, Shepard. I know I should be a better daughter but… oh Shepard, I miss her. When I was a child I busied myself in the gardens, always looking for some new mystery to solve. Once, I tried to work out how old a blade of grass was by measuring the heights of almost a thousand others. Needless to say I swiftly lost track of where I had started, let alone where I was. Goddess, I was so silly. But I always knew when my mother was due home. Her sky car dropped her off an hour before sundown every day, without fail. She told me no matter how demanding others were of her time, that hour would always be ours._

_I would abandon whatever I was doing to rush to the main entrance. The poor servants! My bare feet were always muddy, and every day without fail I would forget to dust them off in my eagerness. In the atrium, one of them usually had to pick me up kicking and screaming to towel me off and remove the grime. I imagine my mother probably instructed them to do so after I ruined one of her beautiful sunglow dresses in a mud-sodden embrace._

_Hah! Well, if you ever need a grubby embrace, Dr T'Soni, I'd be happy to oblige. Ahem! Not that we would ever have occasion to…_

_Shepard's voice trailed off as she quickly darted into the kitchen, muttering something about the stock boiling over. When she returned, she brought the bottle with her, finishing it off as she refilled their glasses._

_Anyway… you were saying?_

_I… well, after being scrubbed clean by the servants, I would stand in the doorway, craning my neck to catch a glimpse of the arriving sky car. They had to physically hold me back after the day I nearly hurt myself running for it as it pulled in! I would laugh and rush forward as my mother emerged, revelling in the tender, loving expression on her face. She was no doubt tired after a long day, but she always had energy for me. I would drag her through the house and the garden, leading her to my latest discovery, with not a care for how fatigued she might be or how badly I might ruin my dress. She was the only person I know who could be so exasperated and happy at the same time. Then, she would sweep me into her arms, swinging me in the air as I giggled and squealed._

_I miss her, Shepard. I… I do not know how we grew so far apart. My heart aches every time I think of it._

_Shepard's eyes were distant, her voice quiet as she spoke._

_My mother… she was much the same as yours, I suspect. I don't remember much of her; she died when I was a child, but… I remember the soothing sound of her voice, the warmth of her embrace. I… I always felt safe in her arms. No matter how dark the night, how many buckets of tears I needed to shed… she was always there. Until she couldn't be anymore._

_Now, Shepard fixed her with her intense gaze, her face sad but her eyes dry._

_I promise you, Liara. Whatever your mother's got herself into, I'll try my best to get her out of it. But… you have to know that the mission has to come first. If it comes down to it, if I can't help her, can't take her prisoner… I… I might have to kill her. I can't ask you to, but… can you come to terms with that?_

_Liara could feel her eyes heating with tears as she bravely faced her new friend. No words were needed as she shut her eyes in a single nod. Shepard placed a hand on her cheek, the other on her knee. They lingered there a while before she stood and headed into the kitchen._

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The shallots had been sautéed in olive oil, the garlic, rosemary and seasoning with black pepper added when they had been lightly browned. Shepard whipped the ingredients about in the pan, allowing the flavours to meld together while taking care not to burn anything. When _that_ smell – the one which she would never forget – came, she smiled wanly, adding in a healthy serving of balsamic vinegar.

"See, Monday… that's the smell I was talking about. Now the vinegar… it's got this pungent smell that makes your nose wrinkle. You've got to cook until it evaporates into a syrup, otherwise your jus will be too watery. No one likes a watery jus. I think I'd rather drink piss."

Liara nodded, too busy processing all the different steps in this new experience to make any sort of meaningful response. Shepard continued to whisk the food in the pan about idly, both women content with the silence. She grinned when Liara handed her the Cabernet Sauvignon.

"So you were listening to me babble on… not just yet. See… it's not thick enough yet… there, see how it falls off the spatula? That's the consistency we're aiming for."

"Can I add the wine?"

"Course"

In her excitement, Liara tripped over her own feet as she headed towards the stove. She fell forwards, eyes wide in alarm as red wine splashed onto the kitchen floor. Shepard saw all of this out of the corner of her eye, spinning on her heel and catching both Liara and the bottle as they fell towards the floor.

"Whoa there doc… I'd actually like some wine in the pan," she smirked, releasing the stunned asari from their awkward embrace. Gently, she poured the remainder of the wine into the pan, turning down the heat a little to let it simmer. "The wine needs to boil off anyway… hey Liara… you're looking pretty blue… do you need to sit down?"

"N-no thank you, Shepard. I… I am sorry to have wasted your wine."

Shepard snorted. "_That_? Don't worry, Liara… I don't use my best wines for cooking… if you'd spilt the Burgundy, however, you might have found yourself suspended upside down from the ceiling in a stasis field."

At that, Liara cocked an eyebrow. "Uh… Shepard… you think you can biotically restrain me against my will?"

"That a challenge, Monday?"

Now, it was Liara's turn to flash an amused smirk as she slapped the Commander lightly on the shoulder. "Mmmm… maybe one day we'll have to find out."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Here… try this."

Shepard took a small teaspoon full of the finished jus, handing it to Liara. She was satisfied that the added stock had been sufficiently reduced, quickly finishing off the sauce with a little salt and a knob of butter. She watched Liara carefully as the asari hesitantly took the pro-offered spoon, sniffing its contents lightly, before tentatively taking a sip. The Commander grinned as Liara's face lit up, a contented smile punctuating the soft hum coming from her throat. For a reason she could not truly fathom, seeing the asari happy made her happy; made her forget the worries she had planned to drown in whiskey. _You turning into some fucking high school sap, Shepard? Get a fucking grip._

"Shepard… this is… delectable."

"Ah… you ain't tried nothing yet, T'Soni. This… this is fillet mignon, the star of the show."

Liara quickly discarded the spoon as Shepard motioned her over to the counter. "What is it?"

"It's the most tender piece of cow," they both chuckled softly, thinking back to Shepard's unintentional and inadvertent faux pas earlier, "in this sweet galaxy. It's the tail end of this muscle." Shepard ran her hand lightly over Liara's back, tracing the outline of her psoas major muscle.

"People think you have to go to some fancy restaurant to enjoy a well-cooked fillet mignon. They'd shit themselves if they knew how easy it was to cook at home. The trick is to seal in the juices. Here, watch."

Shepard put some oil in a pan, turning the stove on. Whilst the oil was heating, she quickly seasoned both sides of the medallions with salt and pepper, before placing them both in the pan. She spoke as the air crackled with a sizzle, turning the steaks after a minute.

"Searing the meat keeps the flavour in while it cooks. Don't overcook it or it'll taste like that shit we get on the Normandy. You want the outside to be completely browned. That's how long it should be in the pan. No more, no less. Now… you transfer to a tray and let the oven finish the job."

"You said earlier it has to be done just right? Rare? How do you tell?"

"Ah… that's the best part… Do you mind?" Liara shook her head lightly, a bemused smile on her face as she placed her hand in Shepard's outstretched one. "It's all about the feel… fortunately, this bulge of muscle on your palm just below your thumb can guide you."

Gently, Shepard pressed on Liara's thenar eminence. "Now… feel the difference in firmness of the muscle as I do this." Lightly, she guided Liara's thumb to the tips of each of her other four fingers in turn. "When your thumb's touching your little finger, that's how a well-done steak feels; ring, medium; middle, medium rare. Index… that's where the money is. That soft, supple feel? That's how you tell a steak is cooked to perfection.

"Speaking of which…"

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Ashley, do you have a minute?"

Ashley looked up from her breakfast, surprised to see Liara up so early. The asari had not been in her room when Ashley had returned from Flux.

"Of course Liara… coffee?"

"I think I'll start the morning with some tea, but thank you."

"What's up?"

"Ashley… are you aware that it is Commander Shepard's birthday today?"

Ashley blinked, her mug suspended in mid-air. "Shepard's… birthday? And how, pray tell, did you come across this particular nugget of information?"

"Shepard told me," the asari answered simply.

"Shepard told you?"

"Yes… over a… she made quite a delicious meal of –"

"Wait… Shepard _cooks_? Liara… are we talking about the same Shepard? The crazy biotic vanguard who charges head-first into _krogan_?"

"Yes… and quite well, might I add. Anyway, Ashley, please… let us focus. I have asked Shepard if I can bring some food over tonight in repayment for last night's meal, and she has agreed. I would like for us to do something to celebrate her birthday. Unfortunately, I am not familiar with human customs."

"Well, Liara," the twinkle in Ashley's eyes was unmistakable.

"Do you know how to bake?"

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Shepard interlaced her fingers behind her head as she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. _The fuck are you doing, Shep?_ She had been pleasantly surprised when Liara had asked to return the following evening, and had assented before her brain had a chance to tell her to stop. It was not that she had not enjoyed her evening with Liara – indeed, she could not recall a time when she had felt more relaxed. That, and she could actually count the number of times she had sworn out loud – usually a sure sign that she was truly engaged in the conversation._ Or you're turning into a fucking demented chimpanzee_.

She could not remember the last time she had had such conflicting emotions. On the one hand, she wanted to take off in the Normandy to her next destination, leaving Liara stranded on the Citadel. She would not have to see all the shit Shepard would inevitably drag her into, and she would not have to face what her mother had become, not have to see Shepard kill the only person she had ever really loved. The other part of her wanted to drop by the Normandy that very instant, to carry on the conversation she had had with Liara the previous evening. It had been so long since Shepard had felt able to just talk to someone, so long since she had had a friend. Mostly, people talked to her because they wanted a mission done, or because they were waiting to receive an order; Liara had been the first person in a very long time to actually seek her out for a non-official reason.

_Again, what the fuck are you doing?_ Her gut was screaming at her to run, to throw up all the walls she had built to protect herself. She would never admit it to anyone, but even today, 11 years on, her heart still burned from the pain of Ari's betrayal. Ari had been Shepard's first love, her only love. Then, the one time Shepard had felt secure enough to tell her everything, she had betrayed her to Finch and Durant. She had even taken part in the torture. Shepard could not, would not open herself up to that kind of pain ever again, whether from a lover or a friend. But… now here Liara was, gently knocking on the door, and Shepard was sorely tempted to answer. Liara was so gentle, so kind, so innocent. Shepard could not bring herself to believe that Liara would ever betray her. _Then again, you fucktard, you thought the exact same thing about Ari…_

Shepard's deliberations were interrupted by the harsh intrusion of the doorbell. Glancing at her chrono, she cursed as she realised it was already 7:30 in the evening. She glanced down at herself and sighed. She was still in her gym attire – highly un-dinner like in a pair of skimpy shorts and a t-shirt. _Fuck! Oh well… Liara's just gonna have to hang around while I get dressed_. Still cursing under her breath, she padded to the door, slapping an irritated smile on her face as she slammed her fist against the release.

"Surprise!"

Shepard blinked, her mouth agape as she stared at the sight in front of her. Half the fucking crew were crowded in the doorway, adorned with the most ridiculous party hats she had ever seen. Liara stood in the middle of the crowd, a bashful smile on her face as she looked at the Commander. She held a box of sorts in her arms; Shepard could not quite fathom what it might contain. She was flanked by Ashley and Tali, both weighed down by what appeared to be crates of beer. Kaidan, Wrex and Garrus looked equally burdened.

"What the fu–"

"Shepard, women talk too much," Wrex rumbled, as he dropped his crates and strode up to her. She glowered at him as he met her eye, before he smirked and hauled her off the floor, carrying her into her apartment. Shepard was too stunned to retaliate, staring in horror at the tickled faces of her crew as Wrex dumped her unceremoniously onto the couch.

"I think it's time for another sort of competition, Shepard," Garrus smirked as he leaned on a crate of beer, tapping it in an unspoken challenge.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Begrudgingly, Shepard admitted to herself that she was having a good time. It was nice to relax with her crew mates outside the formal setting of the Normandy, with everyone in their civvies. Ash had drunkenly told her about how much she hated her sister's new boyfriend; Tali had regaled with glee the story of Kaidan's unfortunate blind date; Garrus was passed out on the floor, a can of beer still in hand; Kaidan had spoken of a girl he had once fallen for; hell, even Wrex had opened up a little, telling Shepard an unbelievable tale of the greatest battle he had ever fought… with an asari commando named Aleena. Too bad Joker was cooped up in the Normandy feeling sorry from himself, – _sorry, suffering the disastrous effects of man flu_ – Chakwas forced to attend to his every whim.

"Shepard," the Commander looked up to see Liara taking a seat beside her, her fingers toying nervously with the corner of that strange box she had brought along with her.

"Liara… I… thank you for organising this."

"It was my pleasure, Shepard. I… I made something for you. I admit, I have never tried my hand at this before, but Ashley insisted it was an absolutely crucial part of human birthday celebrations."

"Wait… you _baked_?"

"Y-yes… I hope you will find it agreeable."

"I can't wait to see it, Monday."

With another timid smile, Liara set the box on the table, placing herself in between Shepard and the contents so that the Commander could not see what she was doing. Satisfied, she stepped back, peering at Shepard's face.

_Dear fuck, it looks like a piece of shit decorated with cowpats._

Shepard swallowed, forcing a wide grin onto her face as she stared at the cake. "I… thank you, Liara. It looks very… unique. I am sure it will taste lovely."


	22. Chapter 22: Kill Order

**A/N: woohoo, weekend! Thanks for your patience, everyone, and sorry for the wait. Next update will probably be the coming Saturday. **

**I haven't read any of the ME tie-in novels or played any of the iPhone games, so apologies if there are any lore errors; shouldn't be too big an issue, hopefully, just bouncing character names about.**

* * *

"Banes."

The Illusive Man regarded the hologram with complete and utter apathy, his face emotionless and gaze piercing. Armistan Banes was hardly a splitting image of a typical scientist; his physique was toned, his shoulders broad and his waist narrow. He was standing with his arms folded; an arrogant and assuming pose given his current predicament. The Illusive Man briefly considered putting him in his place, before he chided himself silently. Being in control was all about manipulating your subordinates, maintaining an unflappable façade; a calculated insouciance. He did not really care if his underlings were terrified of him, if they were not devoted to him like Shepard's men on Torfan had been. He would crush them under his heel if he even caught a scent of insolence; there was no need for the fervour which a natural leader inspired. _Everyone_ was expendable; everyone… except Commander Jessica Shepard. Much as he hated to admit it, humanity needed her alive, well, and putting that pathetic excuse for a vulture in his place.

"Sir. Operative Lawson informed me that you would like to have a word. I have been waiting on hold for –"

"The exact amount of time I wanted you on hold for, Banes." The hologram straightened a little, Banes dropping his arms to his side. For a brief moment, a look of anxiety crossed his face. The Illusive Man chose to let him steam; people were always far easier to handle when they were flustered and distracted. With complete indifference, he reached into his breast pocket, removing a cigarette from the elegant chrome case within. He ducked his head, lighting it, finally letting his gaze wander languidly back to Banes as hazy tendrils of smoke crept upwards.

Uncomfortable with the silence, Banes spoke hastily. "Sir, I have had mind-blowing breakthroughs in my research into an antidote for Corrumpebant. In addition, I think the project we started on Jump Zero and continued on Teltin is now ready for phase three testing through our assets in the Ascension Project."

"Hyperbole is unnecessary. I am aware of your breakthroughs, Banes… as is, it appears, Commander Shepard and some of her crew on the Normandy." At this, Banes swallowed, all pretense of pride vanishing. Anyone who had worked for the Illusive Man long enough knew a threat when they heard one.

"That device you used to induce eezo node growth… send it to Operative Lawson. How far off are you from fine-tuning the effects of Imperium?"

"S-sir… it would take years to isolate specific receptors in the appropriate areas of the brain. If I had more specimens…"

"You will get what we can find. In the meantime, get in touch with Paul Grayson, and begin phase three. All the children there are expendable if necessary, except for the girl. Grayson will brief you."

Without waiting for a response, he terminated the call. He took a long drag from his cigarette, before addressing the woman who had been standing in the shadows.

"Let him work the Ascension Project for a while. I want to see if he can manage to boost biotic power through Augere without its… undesirable side effects. Tap Dr. Toshiwa, have him send a list of students with strong potential and forward it to Grayson; I don't want them touched. The moment we see any progress, get rid of Banes and have Renata take over his research. She'll make a good test subject herself, eventually.

"As for the control drug… Imperium. What do you think?"

Miranda Lawson shrugged, her demeanour imperturbable as always. _That's why she makes a good representative when someone needs to be paid a personal visit._ "It's crass. A series of chips programmed to synthesise and release glutamate, implanted within the appropriate areas of the brain, would be much more efficient. Brain tissue is insensitive to pain; the subject can be awake during the implantation process to ensure no inadvertent brain damage is caused."

The Illusive Man considered the proposal silently, staring into the whipping flames of the dying star his base orbited.

"That asari Shepard picked up…"

"Liara T'Soni."

"She would be a valuable addition to the Barn. Her biotic power, coupled with her young age, could prove to be a beneficial framework upon which we can enhance human biotics. And… it would be interesting to see the effects of Banes' drugs on non-human physiology."

"Getting to her without unnecessarily exposing ourselves to public – and Shepard's – scrutiny will be difficult. Shepard is too astute to put a tail on, but from our tapping of the Normandy's comm system, I understand she and the asari have become… close."

The Illusive Man's gaze flicked to the brunette, a twitch of his eyebrow the only hint to his anger. "Close?"

"Nothing romantic, as far as I can tell, but… it appears the potential is there."

"Then all the more reason to remove her from the equation. While working with aliens is one thing, Shepard cannot be seen to be involved personally with them."

"I agree. But we cannot risk the exposure, not with so many projects in their infancy."

"What do you suggest?"

"I have been studying Commander Shepard's background, as per your request. It is… messy and I am still disentangling various bits, but we may be able to use some aspect of it to our advantage."

"Continue." The Illusive Man reached for the glass of whisky sitting on one of the arms of his chair, taking a sip as he listened.

"As you know, she was a member of the Tenth Street Reds till the age of 18, when she enlisted in the Alliance. During that time, my sources say she was romantically involved, very seriously, with another biotic girl named Ariadne Naxos. Naxos' entire family, save her older brother, had been killed in the crossfire of a bad hostage situation when she was 12. The two kids were left to fend for themselves because the police were too busy covering up their blunder. Eventually, the head of the Reds, a man known only to my sources as Durant, took them in.

"I'm still trying to pin-point exactly when Shepard joined and when they became close – there is little in the way of a paper trail – but in the months leading up to Shepard leaving the Reds, something happened between them. I'm told Shepard was sent by Durant to kill a boy, who was the son of a rival gang leader. It so happens that that gang leader was responsible for the hostage situation involving Naxos' family, and had slit her mother's throat in front of her."

"Was Naxos close to her mother?"

"Difficult to say for certain, but by all accounts, yes. Her record was spotless before the incident and teachers who remembered the girl – I suppose a model pupil dropping off the radar suddenly is memorable – recalled the moments when her mother picked her up from school. It appears they adored one another."

"So Naxos would have had a personal reason for wanting the job done."

"Yes, but the boy's trail vanished that day. No death certificate, no police reports, no John Doe deaths reported that day, no hits on his passport, no further attendances at school. I doubt Shepard killed him, despite what she told the Reds – she had never previously bothered to hide bodies. Plus, Durant would have wanted his body found to send a message. I note, however, that then-Lieutenant Commander David Anderson was on Earth that day, and it was he who sponsored Shepard's later admission into the military. I am looking into his records from that time to see if I can piece together what happened."

"Interesting, but how is this relevant to our current objective?"

"At some point, Durant found out Shepard had lied to him. My sources say Naxos betrayed her. He had her tortured and instructed his lieutenant, Naxos' older brother, to finish her off and get rid of the body. Somehow, she escaped. I don't know how, but I've been looking into the attack on Shepard on the Citadel a few weeks ago. It turns out the assassin was hired by the Tenth Street Reds."

"Durant found out she's alive."

"Yes… and no. I traced the funds for the hit through a network of misdirects and blips to Naxos' personal account. It appears she and her brother might have been responsible for Shepard's escape, and they were trying to have the Commander dealt with before Durant caught wind of her status."

"Short-sighted. Her death would have created an even bigger media frenzy than her becoming a Spectre."

"Yes, well, there's a reason they're still gangsters on Earth. In any case, I believe we can use Naxos."

"How so?"

"She and her brother are likely terrified for their lives; Durant by now must know they betrayed him. I can get Durant off their backs – he won't say no to some of our assets on Earth. In exchange, I get Naxos. I'll tell Durant she wronged me somehow, and that I'm out for revenge. He's ruthless, and will consent to the swap. With proper coercion, and a healthy serving of Banes' cocktail, I believe we can have her take care of the asari problem. Shepard's rage will be focused solely on Naxos – she'll never suspect any other involvement because Naxos has already wounded her."

The Illusive Man took another sip from his glass, his cold gaze never wavering from Miranda's. "I am impressed, Ms Lawson. Very impressed. Make it happen."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Earth is not a pretty place – at least, not the part of Earth we live in. I am not even sure why I find myself gazing out our window. The sunrise, I imagine, could have been beautiful once; now, it is marred by thick smog and charcoal grey clouds. At least there is enough of a glow for me to make out her features. I feel a subtle shift over my breast, a hand reaching round me to nestle me in a warm embrace. It is ticklish, and I let out a surprised giggle, looking down at the face before me.

_Beautiful_. Sometimes, I wonder how I could have been so lucky. After having everyone I loved ripped away from me I thought I would never feel again. Even now, I can still see mother, her terrified eyes trying to find me safe haven, even as the knife slashed her throat asunder. Jake, my sweet, sweet brother grips onto me so tightly that bruises start to form; I wrap my arm around his small head, not wanting him to see what is happening to our family.

I am snapped out of my reverie when she lifts a hand to my face, gently brushing aside my tangled tendrils and sweeping them behind my ear. She smiles; it is a bewitching smile which spreads to her alluring emerald eyes.

"I love you."

_I love you too_. Why can I not say the words? I think them, but they are lost in the maze which carries them from my mind to my throat; the only sound I can muster in response is a hum. I do not want to hurt her, so I lean over, suddenly desperate to feel her lips against mine. The kiss is initially tender, but as I feel her tongue search my mouth, feel her uncertainty at my lack of a response, it grows more urgent. My hand moves up her flat stomach, trailing agonisingly slowly towards her breasts. I feel her shift again as she presses herself closer into me.

When the kiss breaks, we are both panting. Keenly aware of the insistent yearning in her expression and my own thumping heartbeat, I lean into the crook of her neck, my other hand sweeping over her thigh and moving deliberately north.

"Ari, wait. I… there's something I need to tell you. I… I love you… I can't keep this from you anymore. No more secrets, ok?"

I blink, before I feel my world shatter and the numbness return. The boy maybe I could understand, but… Anderson? After what he did to my family? And she wants to leave? Wants me to leave? My eyes sting with tears of anger and betrayal; of all the people to let me down, I never thought I would have to count Jess amongst them. Then, I am out of bed, running, my modesty protected only by the sheet I am clinging desperately to. I have to find someone. Finch… he will understand.

"Ari please… don't go… I…"

The door hisses shut behind me; the corridor is dark. I do not remember it being so dark. I run and run, tears and darkness and the haunting sight of mum and Jake and dad obscuring my vision.

Suddenly, I collide with someone; I do not really remember entering this room. I blink at the sudden illumination, my eyes struggling to adjust. I am still crying, but my heart feels like it is being wrenched out of my chest. I look down at my hands, surprised to see them torn and bleeding. It is then that I realise I have done this; my own nails still covered with ragged bits of skin and blood. Finch is there; he hands me a newly-lit cigarette.

"Do it."

"No," I whisper, sinking to my knees. Now, the scene becomes clear. Finch and Durant have Jess strung up in the adjacent room; they have had for days. This is not what I had wanted, not what I thought he would do. My own brother betrayed my confidence to gain favour with a gangster.

"Finch, please… no."

"Ari, shut the fuck up and listen to me. She has to believe you're done with her, otherwise she'll just come back for you. You fucking know that. You want your pretty little bitch to live, well suck it up. Now do it… just one little burn to the face. Otherwise, I'll kill her instead… and I'll take my sweet time with her while I'm at it."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Captain."

Anderson returned Shepard's salute with a wry smirk. "How many times do I have to tell you to drop the act when there's no one around to appreciate it, Shepard?"

The Commander snorted, dropping herself into a chair with a loud sigh.

"Something wrong?"

"It's nothing. I've tracked down Kahoku's men. It seems Banes was on to them. Fucker lured 'em straight into a thresher nest, then used their bodies for some fucked up research."

"Yes, I saw your report. Kahoku will take it from here. I'm amazed the paperwork arrived before the diatribe… you getting senile in your old age, Shepard?"

Shepard glowered at the smirking man rocking in his chair opposite her, before the corner of her mouth lifted slightly. Pretending to lean back in her chair, she reached out a leg, giving Anderson's chair a gentle shove. She laughed when the Captain's eyes widened, his arms shooting out to grasp hold of the desk even as he lost his precarious balance. "At least my hip doesn't set off a metal detector, old man."

Anderson steadied himself, the smirk reappearing. "It's not nice to assault the elderly, you know. Anyway, it's about time you started earning your keep, _Spectre_. I've had word that Matriarch Benezia is on Noveria."

"Noveria? The fuck does she want with a load of bureaucratic asswipes who specialise in making the possible impossible?"

"It's difficult to say; Alliance Intelligence has only heard chatter that she's there – there's little else about her whereabouts or who she's there to see."

"So… what's the catch? You didn't just summon me for my charming demeanour."

"I see nothing escapes you," Anderson said with a wink, grinning at the good-natured scowl Shepard shot him. "Intel informs me that Benezia and Saren are big investors in a company known as Binary Helix. Chatter is that they're developing some sort of bioweapon. If that's what Benezia is there to retrieve… the consequences are –"

"Gonna be rammed up her pretty ass. Don't worry, sir, I'll head there ASAP."

"Shepard… be careful. The bioweapon is dangerous enough to be flagged by the brass… it's not to be scoffed at."

The Commander's expression puzzled Anderson. It almost seemed as if she was tired, resigned. It worried him; he had never seen anything like it on her face. Before he could tie her down and find out what exactly was troubling her, she was up and standing in the doorway.

"I'll be fine, sir."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"That's far enough, Alliance. Starling, restrain them and relieve them of their weapons."

Shepard folded her arms, glaring at the leader of the three armed security guards standing in front of her. "And who the fuck are you?"

The chief bristled, her grip on her weapon tightening, its sights shifting upwards ever so slightly. "Maeko Matsuo, Captain, Noveria Security Forces. This is an unscheduled arrival, soldier. We need to secure you and see your paperwork."

Shepard shot her a withering look, before languidly activating her omni-tool. "Happy? Can I enter the giant pygmie-operated shithole now?"

Starling glanced at the credentials mirrored on her omni-tool. "Load of horseshit, ma'am. It's a good forgery but Alliance soldiers always were thick as nuts. There are no human Spectres, soldier, so why don't you take your asari and quarian pets and head on back before we impound your vessel."

"Who the fuck lit the fuse on your tampon, blondie? You've either had a motherfucker of a brain fart, or you're really just as bright as Alaska in December. Check the damn news feeds from a few weeks back."

Starling had gone a very bright shade of red, her teeth bared as she pointed her shotgun at Shepard's chest. The Commander did not flinch, her glower almost daring Starling to pull the trigger.

"We will need to verify these credentials, Commander Shepard. But, be advised, firearms are not permitted on Noveria." The Captain raised her weapon; the third guard swiftly followed. "Sergeant, secure their weapons."

Instantly, Shepard's pistol was in her hand, her free hand flaring with blue energy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tali raise her shotgun; Liara's fist was glowing, but she looked hesitant. "You can take my guns after I've fed you your fucking heart."

"Commander, we are authorised to use lethal force. I will not warn you twice."

"Good, because I'd rather listen to a fat man's wet fart than you dithering on about your red tape."

"I'm giving you to the count of three, Commander."

Shepard's grin was feral; it had been three days since she had last shot something, after all.

"One… two… th–"

"Captain Matsuo, stand down! Commander Shepard's credentials are genuine, and Spectres are authorised to bear arms on Noveria."

The Captain was visibly fuming as she wordlessly lowered her weapon, her reluctance evident. Shepard flashed her a sweet grin as she holstered her pistol. "Choking on horse cum, Captain?"

"Enough. You will report to Giana Parasini inside. Don't cause any trouble, Spectre. I have my eyes on you."

"Aww, it's so cute when you try and act all big and grown up. How about you just fuck off and we can go back to pretending we've never met?" Shepard turned on Starling, jabbing a finger at her. "And you… call a member of my team an animal again, and you better pray and hope there's enough left of you to bury."

With that, she turned, stalking into the complex, Liara and Tali in tow.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Ariadne's eyes flew open. The dream had been so vivid… she thought she had buried those memories. Blinking, she began to reach for her chrono before she realised that she did not know where she was. Then, she remembered. She had been hurrying along a street, trying to make it to the food store before it closed for the day. In her rush, she had been distracted, inattentive. _Stupid, Ari… stupid!_

The attack had happened so suddenly and efficiently, she had not had time to react. She felt a prick at the base of her neck, before a bag had been thrown over her head and her amp unplugged. That was all she remembered until… the operating theatre. She recalled blinking under the harsh operating lights. There was a person standing behind her whom she could not see; she tried to move her head, but it had been secured in some kind of metal cage. She remembered how her entire scalp felt numb; it was disconcerting not to be able to see what was going on, but she could not let her captors know she was troubled.

She had glanced right and left, shifting her gaze as far as she was able. She could make out a balding man manning some equipment. She looked down, seeing the intravenous line running into her arm. He was obviously drugging her with something.

_Good evening, Miss Naxos._

_The voice was that of a woman, the accent distinctly Australian. Ariadne said nothing._

_Miss Naxos I know you can hear me. I assure you, you will not be harmed if you cooperate. So, let's try that again. Good evening, Miss Naxos._

_Evening._

_Good, your speech is intact. Now, I'm going to give you a few simple commands. Obey them and your part in this little experiment will be over. Wiggle your index finger… now make a fist with your left hand. Good. Take your right hand, touch your chest and then your left leg. Excellent. Now tap your feet in synchrony against the leg rest… bend your right knee, then bring your left leg over it. Perfect. Dr Wilson will now show you some cards. Each card will have the name of a colour written on it, but the word will be in a different colour. I want you to tell me the colour of the word, not what the word reads. Do you understand?_

_Yes._

_Good. Dr Wilson?_

_Red. Orange. Purple._

_I think we have enough here. Wilson, put her back to sleep._

_Wait! Where am – _

That was the last thing Ariadne remembered. She did not know where she was, or how much time had passed since she had been abducted. Gingerly, she raised her hand to a throbbing area of her head, surprised to find it swathed in bandages. She sat up slowly, desperately fighting a sudden wave of nausea that brought bile to her throat. She was in a sparse room; aside from the bed she had been lying on, there was little else in the way of furnishing, aside from a toilet, a sink and a video camera in the far corner. For the first time in a long while, Ariadne could feel herself begin to panic. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, dampening the bandages uncomfortably; her increasing heart rate only served to worsen the twisting and churning of her gut. Someone had done something to her, and she did not have the faintest idea what.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Miranda Lawson strode towards Naxos' cell, her heels clicking sternly against the metal floor as she walked. She glanced at her chrono, a silly habit borne out of her obsessive attention to detail and compulsive need for things to adhere to schedule. The Illusive Man would want to speak with Naxos in a few minutes. She had better be ready. Pausing only to check the video feed from the cell, and, satisfied that Naxos was sitting dejectedly in one corner, Miranda slapped open the door.

"Miss Naxos. I trust you slept well. Come with me."

When her only response was a glare, Miranda sighed, pulling the angry woman off the bed with a flick of her wrist. She cast her a sideways glance of complete disinterest, before starting away.

"Where am I? Who are you?"

_Banes' formula is impressive_. Despite her amp being unplugged, Miranda could feel Naxos struggling against the stasis field. _And we haven't even had occasion to use his little device yet._ Impatiently, she released the woman, watching as she stumbled to the floor.

"You are in a secure facility. I assure you the rest of your questions will be answered in due course. Now please, come with me. There is someone who would like to meet you."

She could see the fury in Naxos' eyes, in the twitching of her upper lip. Yet, she had no other choice but to comply, and apparently, she was smart enough to know that. With a glare, and folding her arms across her chest, she lifted her chin and started to walk.

The comm room was dark, just how the Illusive Man liked it. Activating the terminal, she opened a direct line to the man, which was answered surprisingly promptly. The Illusive Man was, as ever, sat with his legs crossed, a half-smoked cigarette in one hand and a tumbler of whisky in the other. Behind him, the fiery glow from the sun cast an enigmatic shadow over his features. She glanced at Naxos; the Illusive Man would be pleased that his setup was having the desired effect.

"Good evening, Miss Naxos. I trust you have been treated well?"

The hint of wonder on Naxos' face was suddenly replaced by a scowl as she glared at the hologram. "You've taken me hostage and done –"

"Please, Miss Naxos, my time is short and your position is hardly one to be arguing from. So I will assume that you've been well-treated and are adjusting to your new home."

"My new home? Where the hell am I, exactly? Who are you people?"

"That does not matter. What matters is two things. The first is what we've done to you. I'm afraid the explanation is long and boring, and a demonstration would be much more efficient."

The Illusive Man paused to take a drag of his cigarette, before casually reaching out and pressing a button. Miranda's terminal lit up, revealing Banes' activated device. Suddenly, Naxos was on the floor, her entire body alight, her screams tearing through the complex.

"S-stop! P-please!"

Miranda had not expected this. Out of the Illusive Man's line of sight, her unflappable demeanour had cracked, a grimace on her face as she watched him torture the poor girl. She had "recruited" Naxos to deal with the asari problem, not for some macabre exhibition. But there could be no turning back now. With a great deal of effort, she forced her expression back into the same cold, indifferent one she always wore.

The Illusive Man finally reached out and tapped his console again. Naxos' whimpers filled the room as the fire surrounding her dissipated. Miranda reached out, activating the barriers around Naxos which were there to deal with any inadvertent discharge; however, without an amp plugged in, she was not too worried.

"You see, Miss Naxos, we own you now. Any time we like, that little display can repeat itself. And did I mention…" he tapped another series of buttons. Miranda watched as Ariadne's terrified expression changed to one of horror; she got to her feet, her back ramrod straight as she lifted her hand in a salute.

"We control you, too."

"W-what do you want from me?"

"Ah, you pre-empt the second thing. I've always appreciated a fast learner, Miss Naxos. I trust you are familiar with this woman?"

Naxos' eyes widened as a picture of Commander Shepard appeared on the terminal screen.

"No... fuck you. Kill me if you want, I'm not –"

"Don't worry, Miss Naxos. We found your little trinket, the one you're wearing around your neck right now. I don't want her hurt. In fact, I want her protected. You're going to do just that. If you succeed, our business will be concluded and I will reverse what has been done to you."

The Illusive Man tapped another button, and the image changed to that of an asari.

"This alien is Dr Liara T'Soni. She is a traitor and an enemy of the Council – if you have been keeping abreast of recent events, then you will know a former Spectre named Saren and an asari matriarch called Benezia have committed treason. Dr T'Soni is Benezia's daughter and has been sent to infiltrate Commander Shepard's crew. Her instructions are to gain Shepard's trust, her love if need be, so that Saren always remains one step ahead of the Commander. When Saren's mission is done, she _will_ kill Commander Shepard. That is not something I'm prepared to allow. The Commander and the asari are currently on Noveria. I have a ship, complete with some men and any supplies you may need, ready to depart immediately. Your objective is simple.

"Bring me Liara T'Soni, dead or alive."


	23. Chapter 23: ThorosB

**A/N: sorry for the delay; been distracted by some ideas for one-shots of Liara post-ME1/2/3. I hope to have another chapter up over the weekend, but in case I don't, a quick word about future updates for this particular story. I won't have any time to write proper chapters next week (yay, nights…), and am away on annual leave the two weeks after. There will probably be quite a significant delay in updates – just so you know, I have no intention of leaving this story unfinished… it will just be a while (?weeks) in between chapters, at least until mid-July.**

**In the meantime, I'm probably going to use the small chunks of time I have to pen some other shorts; either continuing the one I've just started, or just random little stories. All will be about Liara/FShep, mainly because my attention span is too short to focus on anybody else. **

**As usual, minor characters and events are not strictly cannon…**

* * *

"Tali, will you please give us a minute?"

"Of course, Shepard."

Shepard glanced over at Liara; the asari looked unnaturally pale, her gaze unfixed and her eyes glazed over. "Hey… Monday… you alright?"

No response. Shepard placed a hand on her shoulder, gently but firmly guiding her to the reception's seating area, away from the questioning eyes of Gianna Parasini. The entire room was sterile, the fluorescent lights harshly reflecting off the immaculately polished surfaces. Even the chairs were hard and unwelcoming. _Who the fuck would want to work in such a shithole?_

Shaking her head, Shepard turned her attention back to her friend. "Liara… hey. Look at me."

Numbly, the asari complied, blue eyes meeting green. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. I can't really imagine how–"

Shepard blinked as Liara's eyes shot to life, her jaw setting. "No, Commander. I… I would like to come… if you permit it. Despite our differences, I cannot believe Benezia would so freely ally with Saren. Perhaps… perhaps she will see reason if I can just… reach her. Otherwise…" the asari shrugged helplessly, a sad look crossing her face. "I owe it to myself to be there."

The Commander regarded the other woman carefully, placing an elbow over the headrest of her chair as she did so. For all her shyness and insecurities, the asari looked remarkably determined. "Monday… you won't be letting anyone down if you go back to the Normandy. I meant what I said back at my apartment, but you have to know… things can get real ugly, real fast. Your mother… you may not get the chance to say what you need to."

Liara's expression remained unchanged, her chin lifting as she spoke. "I understand, Shepard. I want to come… if the time comes… I will not let you down. I give you my word."

"Alright, then, Monday… let's stop dicking around then. There's some bureaucratic asswipe just waiting to bury us in paperwork. I suppose we should go say hello."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Zev Cohen looked up from his microscope, wishing he could wipe the sweat from his brow. His hazmat suit was fully thermally-regulated, but the adrenaline rush from working with a top-level biological hazard always made him sweaty and nauseous. His research into Thoros-B was no different.

The virus was remarkably similar to the Ebola virus which resulted in sporadic outbreaks of viral haemorrhagic fever in humans every decade or so. No cure or vaccine had been developed because outbreaks were self-contained – the virus was so virulent, its victims died before they could pass the illness on to too many other people. Binary Helix had inadvertently discovered Thoros-B when searching for a way to neutralize a hostile life form on one of the new colony worlds. It was only after the colonies and their resources were safe that the Board of Directors had realised the potential in Thoros-B as a bioweapon; governments, intelligence agencies, hell, even terrorist organisations would pay through the nose to obtain a sample, especially if an antidote could be developed. Binary Helix would be rich.

But, which species to target? One of the biggest investors, a turian named Saren Arterius, had been very vocal in his argument that Thoros-B should be adapted for humans. After all, animosity against humans was far more vitriolic than any other race. Except, perhaps, the batarians… but none of the "civilised" council races would ever deign to be seen using another bioweapon. Not after the genophage. That, and batarian terrorists were the biggest and most easily accessible market. Cohen had initially been hesitant – he himself was human, after all, but a very healthy deposit into his personal account had convinced him otherwise. He persuaded himself that he really did not have a care in the world for the Alliance, and he had no family to speak of. Besides, if Thoros-B were ever to be used against him, he had a secret stock of the antidote on him at all times.

And so, he worked. For months, he fine-tuned the virus, engineering it to target the pulmonary epithelia as an entry port. The mode of transmission was crucial to the success of a bioweapon – aerosolised toxins were easy to transport and release, and allowed efficient person-to-person spread. Other viruses transmitted via the faecal-oral route or bodily secretions were just too… clumsy.

The first step completed, he then modified the pathogenesis of virus such that it would be the perfect weapon. He had studied many biologics which had been used or considered for biological warfare. Many of the Ebolaviruses and Marburgviruses were researched by rogue factions, in the hope of developing something which might be worth all the credits currently on offer to him. Unfortunately, the haemorrhagic fevers they caused were too rapidly-fatal to take advantage of their extreme infectiousness.

No… his version was perfect. It had a year-long incubation period which could be shorted at will via the use of radio wave resonance to release the viral toxins. The advantage of this was two-pronged: (1) as many people could be infected as possible – the only limit was the patience of whoever released the virus; and (2) the longer the virus remained in the host, the more cells it could infect, resulting in rapid death once more than 80% of the body's cells were infected. Granted, it would take about three weeks for this to happen, but anyone resourceful enough to be able to afford Thoros-B would surely be wise enough to wait. Plus, it would give them the opportunity to hold an untold number of people ransom.

Once activated, the viral toxins would cause a widespread activation of the host's immune system as well as death of its host cell. The immune activation would lead to septic shock and disseminated intravascular coagulation – the host's blood pressure would crash, and they would start to bleed from various orifices and any injury sites. The organ-specific injury would give rise to a random symptom complex, making diagnosis difficult. Hosts with the viruses sequestered in the lungs would present with flu-like symptoms and pulmonary oedema – fluid in the lungs, those with gastrointestinal disease with diarrhoea and vomiting, etcetera etcetera. Obviously, the speed with which all this happened would be dependent on incubation length; if activated within a few days, death would probably only result after a couple of weeks.

He had completed his work a month or so ago, and all the requisite confidential memos had been sent. Saren's reply had been prompt, instructing him to make a sizeable sample of the virus and leave it at a named drop point. An asari matriarch would be along soon to pick up all the prepared samples of the bioweapon and the antidote, following which, a hefty bonus would be paid to him. This suited Cohen perfectly; he would then be able to move on to the next project… hopefully the next gold mine.

Then, rather bizarrely, Saren had sent a follow-up memo, this one addressed solely to him. He was to adapt the virus to quarian physiology, and to communicate this to no one, not even the asari who would collect the human virus. Attached to the memo were more credits than he had been ever been paid. He had wondered as to the turian's intents at first, before shrugging and getting on with the job. It was a simple task, and, if the turian was willing to pay him so much for it, who was he to argue? Quarian physiology was similar to that of humans, and this particular virus was so small, it would bypass even their filters. He had completed the mundane task in under a day, leaving another set of samples at the same drop point.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Spectre. You'll excuse me if I don't stand. I am a very busy man, and you are wasting my precious time."

Shepard folded her arms and shifted her weight onto one leg, shooting the seated salarian a withering look. "Well, aren't you a waste of a few billion years of evolution. No wonder they put you in charge of all this bureaucratic gobbledygook."

"Say what you like, Commander Shepard. I've read all I need to know about you in the time it took you to dawdle your way up here. You're nothing more than a glorified Council hound on a very long leash. You will not intimidate me."

"That so?" Shepard shot a sideways glance at Tali, smirking. The quarian, for her part, snorted softly, her head tilting to one side as she looked at Anoleis.

"Tali," Shepard purred. "Why do you think the little administrator here is so brave?"

Tali giggled, her omni-tool flaring as she spoke in her most innocent voice. "Why, Shepard, I don't know… maybe it's because of the two security guards standing behind him."

Another giggle, as she overloaded their weapons, causing them to jump. "Oh, don't worry, they'll work again in five minutes… I think they just got too hot and bothered at the sight of three such _beautiful_ women."

Anoleis glared at Shepard, defiant. The Commander just grinned, raising an eyebrow as she fixed the salarian with a look of pure malicious glee. "Tali, my girl… aren't you forgetting something?"

"Oh silly me, Commander! Here, let me make it up to you." The quarian's fingers danced across her omni-tool without so much as a downwards glance. Almost instantly, sparks started to fly in both corners of the room, spluttering as two turrets popped out from behind their hidden wall panels, completely malfunctioning.

"Would you like me to sweep his chair out from under him, Shepard?"

Shepard chortled softly as she lifted her chin at the salarian. "That would be a sight… unfortunately I need this little fucker unbruised so I can get to Peak 15."

The salarian bristled, shooting to his feet as he pressed both palms into his desk. "This is an outrage, Spectre! You cannot bludgeon your way into _private_ business."

"I thought you did your research, Anoleis… bludgeoning is what I do best."

"In case you are every bit as daft as you look, we are beset by a blizzard! Even if I wanted to, which I most certainly don't, I could not grant you a pass to the garage. And don't even think of taking your own Mako. It's got all sorts of unlicensed recording equipment that my men will not hesitate to disable. And, I assure you, your little quarian pet's trick will not work so smoothly again. We –"

"Sorry to interrupt you, Administrator,"

"Parasini you are paid to sit and answer the phone, not to use the intercom at inopportune times!"

"As I say, Administrator, my apologies. However, it appears that Commander Shepard has an urgent incoming call from the Council."

Shepard's eyes narrowed as her mouth twisted into a sneer. "Don't think this conversation is over, Anoleis."

With that, she strode quickly around the corner, eyes flashing. "Tell the fucking Council to page my omni-tool. Stupid fucks should know better."

Gianna Parasini cocked her head to the side, an amused smirk on her face. "You really don't know how to deal with bureaucracy, do you, Commander? You can't just bulldoze your way through it… these aren't pirates… the harder you hit, the harder they resist."

"Parasini, I did not come here to listen to your smug voice. So how about you just –"

"Commander," Parasini's voice was hushed as she offered Shepard her hand. "Anoleis isn't the only one with access to the garage."

Shepard glared at her, eyes raging as she warily accepted the handshake. Feeling an OSD pressed into her palm, she nodded, before striding out of the office, Liara and Tali hot on her heels.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Ariadne lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The ship had docked at Port Hanshan a couple of minutes ago, and one of the men had been by with instructions from an operative ashore to wait for clearance. Idly, she fingered the locket she always wore around her neck. Despite the years which had passed since she had it made – since _they_ had theirs made – it still brought her immeasurable comfort in times of distress or despair. She usually could not bring herself to open it when her privacy was not assured, but, evidently, everyone who mattered aboard this ship knew of it and its contents already, anyway, so what did she have to lose?

She shuddered, her chest aching as her mind flickered back to the last time she had seen Jess. With a soft sigh, she popped it open, running her thumb across the faded photograph as was her habit. This was how she chose to remember Jess; happy, unburdened by all the pains which had afflicted her over the course of her short life. Finch, so much gentler then, had taken the photo without either of their knowledge. Unintentionally, he had captured a moment of pure bliss. Ariadne remembered it vividly. Both women were intensely fond of music, and both had an odd sentimental attachment to traditional 21st century musical instruments. Ariadne had a small ukulele, while Jess favoured the violin. A strange combination, but they had made some truly melodious music together. They took turns serenading and teaching each other; Finch had captured Jess' expression as she sat, mesmerised by Ariadne's swift fingers and soulful voice.

She smiled faintly as her thoughts drifted back to the first time they had met.

_So… you're the new girl, huh?_

_Ariadne looked up hesitantly, unsure of what to expect. The voice had been friendly enough, but this was not exactly the type of place where people were nice to you for no reason. She was struck by the intensity of the green eyes which stared back at her. Well, eye. The other one was covered by errant sweeps of dark hair – the way they fell made the girl's slightly crooked smile seem downright lopsided._

_Not much for words, eh… I wasn't either. Good to be that way… else the boys will just give you a bit too much unwanted attention. If you know what I mean. _

_Pffft, don't take that, newbie… tastes like horseshit. Here – she fished around in her pockets, her lips pouting as she raised her eyebrows – take this… I live off 'em. Would rather starve than eat the crap Durant feeds us otherwise._

_T-thank you._

_No worries… figure you could use a break. You look like crap._

_That impudent grin again. Ariadne realised she was captivated by that grin._

_C'mon let's go to the "library". Durant's such a pretentious fuck. Anyway… it's quieter there._

_She felt herself warming to the strange girl. She was the first person who had actually bothered to speak to her like she was something other than a tool. With a soft smile which she half covered with her free hand, she followed._

_Do you always take strangers to quiet places?_

_Only the ones who look like they'd appreciate the silence. Name's Jess, by the way… _stranger_._

_Ari. W-why are you being nice to me?_

_Well, Ari. Mostly to get one up on the boys. I've seen the way they look at ya… got too many of those looks myself. Of course, if you'd rather…_

_No! The library's perfect, Jess, thank you._

_The other girl shrugged as she entered the room. True to her word, it was quiet and quite dimly-lit. Jess ran her hand somewhat wistfully over the dusty books on the shelves. This place must have been over a hundred years old._

_Do you come here much, Jess?_

_Used to. Taught myself to read here. Being able to read… it makes you less of a liability. Durant's less likely to sacrifice one of the literate ones. Do you read?_

_Ari nodded sadly._

_In school… they taught us. I used to go… before…_

_Jess' eyes were kind as she guided Ari to the seating area, a book in hand. She whipped out a pen – Ari had not seen one of those in ages – and scribbled something on the back page._

_Here. Try this. It's quite… cathartic._

_You're not staying?_

_A soft chuckle as Jess patted her lightly on the back._

_Nah… Durant needs me to run some silly errand._

_Ok… I guess I'll call you later, then._

_Jess raised an eyebrow, her expression amused._

_You don't even have my number, newbie._

_I've got the feeling you just wrote it down in this book here._

_For the first time in a long time, she laughed, before the other girl joined in._

_I think you'll fit in just fine, newbie… just fine._

Ariadne's eyes misted at the memory, at what she had lost. All because of some stupid mistake. She had been confused, afraid, betrayed. In desperation, she had turned to the only other person she knew, her brother. And because Finch was too wrapped up in his standing with Durant, she had again lost everything she loved. _Jess hates you_. Tears stung her eyes at the thought, a sharp pain lancing through her chest. That horrible memory of the cigarette flashed into her mind; she pushed it away in disgust.

Angrily, she turned her attention to the picture of the asari that man in the holograph had programmed into her omni-tool. She committed every detail, every freckle to memory, her thoughts seething.

_I'll make it up to you, Jess. I'll find the bitch and tear her limb from limb. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again._

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Synthetic Insights had an office just off the mezzanine of Port Hanshan. It was every bit as sterile as the rest of the goddamn place. Parasini had sent Shepard here, claiming that there was some evidence of bribery and corruption within which could put Anoleis and some turian named Lorik Qui'in away for a very long time.

_Get that evidence, and you'll have your pass_, the message had read. Normally, Shepard would have flung the OSD aside, marching straight to commandeer the nearest Mako, administrators be damned. But… Anoleis had seriously pissed her off with his attitude, and the thought of putting the jerk behind bars actually sat quite well with her.

"Stay frosty, people… no idea what sort of surprises Anoleis has waiting."

The Synthetic Insights office had two levels; Shepard guessed, knowing her luck, that the encrypted information would be on the second floor in the office furthest away from the stairwell. The main entrance hallway was certainly not ideal for hostile infiltration; there was no discernible cover, and there were too many goddamn windows overlooking it, too many places to snipe from. She gestured to Liara to erect a barrier, even as she peeked out from the elevator, scanning the windows with the scope of her sniper rifle. She was just about to give the all-clear when her attention was abruptly drawn to a flash of light in the upper right hand corner of her vision. The characteristic "whump" of a grenade launcher hit her ears soon after.

"_Move!_" Shepard yelled, throwing herself out of the elevator and drawing on herself to yank the stunned Liara and Tali out of the way. They landed roughly behind her, even as she erected a bubble around the party, protecting them both from the explosion which rocked the elevator, and the simultaneous eruption of gunfire from the windows.

"Liara, barrier! Tali, see if you can't get a bead on their heat signatures and overload their weapons!"

Snarling, Shepard swiftly swapped her sniper rifle for an assault rifle, spraying the windows with suppressive fire. The basic rule of combat was to match aggression with aggression, thumping enough ammo into whatever cover the enemy was squatting behind such that they could not stick their heads up to return fire. She did not have long to make it so; Liara was a strong biotic, but even she could not hold up for long against the constant barrage of fire.

As she paused to reload, Shepard flung a singularity at a window where she had seen muzzle flashes. A dark smirk crossed her face as a yelping man was pulled into it; just as she was about to finish him off, a pulse of biotic energy hit the singularity, detonating it. The explosion rang out, and for a split-second, there was complete silence as the enemy gaped at the efficient destruction.

"Good job, Monday… Just a few seconds longer, ok?" Turning, she tapped Tali on the shoulder. "Got 'em, Bub?"

"Yes Shepard. Transferring data to your HUD."

"Good work. Now, can you charge this here," Shepard formed a ball of energy just above her palm, "with some of that exploding, burning techie stuff of yours?"

Tali snorted. "Please, Shepard… stop pretending you don't know what it's called. And I thought you were going to ask me to do something difficult."

Shepard grinned, flinging her arm towards the window, even as she tapped Liara on the shoulder. In an instant, fire was spitting from the windows, screams emanating from within as enemy combatants jumped, desperate to get away from the flames.

"Go!"

As one, with Shepard reinforcing Liara's barrier, the party charged to the stairwell. Shepard took point as they quickly swept up it. Scanning the hallway, she looked past the blaze, trying to see if there was anyone else who needed to be dealt with. Satisfied that the coast was clear, she signalled Tali. Calmly, the quarian activated her omni-tool, a super-cooled jet of sub-atomic particles spraying out in a cone. The flames fizzled rapidly, clearing the way for their advance.

Cautiously, they moved through the second floor, Shepard and Tali clearing rooms on either side of the hallway as Liara watched their flanks. The coast seemed clear, which did not sit well with Shepard. She had expected a paranoid bureaucratic little shit like Anoleis to have a more beefed up security detail. They reached Quin's office – for once, Shepard was grateful for the fancy nameplates all administrators seemed to be so hung up on – and Tali quickly got to copying all the data from his terminal while Shepard and Liara kept a lookout.

"I've got it, Shepard."

Grinning behind her faceplate, Shepard clapped both women on their shoulders. "Good job, Bub. Now… let's get the hell out of here and go catch us a dirty lizard."

They exited the office, but Shepard immediately signalled for the others to halt behind the doorway as the sights of her rifle snapped up.

"Come out, Blondie… leave the element of surprise to the adults."

Kaira Stirling stepped into view, flanked by two security guards. Her shotgun was raised, blue fire dancing over her skin. Shepard chuckled to herself; things had been too bloody easy so far.

"Do you know what they do to cop killers on my world, Spectre?"

"You know, Blondie… you're like a fucking laxative… irritating the shit out of everything you come into contact with."

Stirling bristled, her biotics flaring as she tensed her grip on the shotgun. "You little bitch! Attack!"

Shepard had already begun to leap, her jump powered by her biotics, as a hail of bullets slammed into the spot where she had stood just moments ago. "Monday, Bub! On the grunts!"

As she landed, she concentrated on lightening herself, blitzing towards Stirling, who appeared to be doing the same. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the guards rooted in a stasis bubble, before their bodies started twitching as Liara hit them with a warp field. A hiss of orange passed her, as Tali finished them off with a blast of a high-explosive plasma round from her omni-tool.

With a snarl, Shepard collided into Stirling, ramming her elbow into the Sargent's stomach, even as she shifted her hips to take the blow from Stirling's shotgun. She grinned as the other woman gasped, then used her own forward momentum against her, yanking her shotgun forward and slamming her head into the ground. To her credit, the Sergeant did not let the impact daze her, immediately rolling onto her back and thrusting both her feet into Shepard's chest.

The force of the impact, accentuated by Stirling focusing all her biotic power through her feet, caused Shepard to stumble back slightly, giving the other woman enough time to stagger to her feet. With an angry growl, the Commander leapt into the air, delivering a vicious roundhouse to the Sergeant's head. In the peripheries of her vision, she saw Tali and Liara priming their omni-tools and biotics respectively.

"Leave her to me!" she roared as she landed.

Stirling had spun to the side from the kick to the head. Almost instantaneously, Shepard flung her arm out at the dazed woman, sending her crashing into the wall with a throw, the force of which she had tempered somewhat. Striding up to the crumpled figure, she hauled the Sergeant to her feet.

"Give it up, Blondie," she snarled, pinning her to the wall with her forearm, the flaming fist of her other arm drawn back threateningly.

"Shepard, no!" the Commander looked towards the voice, seeing Liara's distressed face. _Fuck, does she honestly think I'd kill someone just for the hell o–_

Shepard's thoughts were interrupted with a hiss of pain as a searing heat pierced her side. Her head snapped back to the woman, even as she glanced down to see a combat knife impaled in her side. "Jesus, fuck, Blondie. If you're gonna fucking stab someone, at least learn where to put it!"

Angrily, she crashed her fist into Stirling's face. The Sergeant doubled over, her arms flailing wildly for the knife. A weak punch headed for Shepard's stomach, which she easily blocked, before bringing her knee sharply up towards Stirling's face. The other woman yelped as her helmet crashed against her face, the impact so brutal her faceplate smashed and her nose broke. Shepard scowled, yanking the knife out from her side as she kicked Stirling into a sit against the wall. She ran the knife along the terrified woman's face, lifting her own faceplate as she did so.

Her eyes smouldered with rage, her features twisted into a look of fury as she considered what to do with the Sergeant. Jerking her head towards her companions, she spoke, her tone even. "You better thank your lucky stars those "animals" interceded on your behalf, you stupid donkeyfuck. When you wake up, you're going to make it up to them _personally_."

With that, she slammed the hilt of the knife into Stirling's temple, knocking her unconscious. Glaring at her two companions as she stood, she turned and strode towards the stairwell.

"C'mon. We have a lizard to fry, and I'm sick of this fucking place."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The Illusive Man glanced up from the datapad he had been perusing; his comm line was flashing silently. Pausing only to take a sip of his drink, he answered the call.

"Leng. I trust the Noveria Development Corporation has been cooperating, and that Cohen still thinks he's working for the turian?"

The hologram in front of him was silent, its only acknowledgement of his question a curt nod. Kai Leng was a man of little words, but that did not bother the Illusive Man. All he cared about was that Leng did the job he was assigned, and did it well.

"Report."

"Dr Cohen's work is complete. Thoros-B has been successfully adapted to quarian physiology. A sample was left at the agreed site a few days ago and a virus was loaded onto Cohen's omni-tool when he made the drop. The turian investor will never know a replicate was made."

"Excellent. And its effects on humans?"

"Cohen's data shows that a reliable human antidote has been synthesized. It can be easily adapted for quarians. If you wish."

"Let's not worry about that just yet. The Migrant Fleet is potentially one of our biggest barriers to aggressive human expansion. Thoros-B will give us some leverage against them. We don't want a cure getting into the wrong hands and nullifying that leverage."

When Kai Leng gave a satisfied nod, the Illusive Man continued. "I've read Dr Cohen's report. It's convincing, but I'm unwilling to bank our plans for the Fleet on a drug untested _in vivo_. Have the virus in Cohen's omni-tool break quarantine protocols in the science lab; ensure that we're still tapped into all his data collection devices. No one will look too hard into illegal research, especially not a former Spectre on the run.

"Cohen will give the antidote to the test subjects; I want confirmation that it works. Once we have that, we can dispose of him. Shepard might conveniently do so for us, with the right… incentive."

"Consider it done. And what of the quarians? We went through all this trouble to ensure we had a lethal weapon against them. I would test it on one of them, as well."

The Illusive Man nodded thoughtfully. "They are a difficult bunch to get hold of; like rats in a sewer. Golo is, as yet, an asset too valuable to burn."

Leng's eyes might as well have belonged to a dead person; there was no emotion in them, no light, as he spoke. "The turian's facility has an extensive network of ducts to hide in, and I will be monitoring the Naxos situation with Banes' device personally, anyway. Shepard is travelling with her pet asari and that quarian street rat she picked up on the Citadel.

"Test it on her, and then you'll know how quickly Thoros-B can kill a quarian."


	24. Chapter 24: Divide and Conquer

**A/N: sorry for the delay – had a busy week and got caught up with a lovey dovey, syrup-covered story about Shep and Liara post-ME3EC. The birthday cake from chapter 21 makes a cameo, if you ever wondered about the consequences… ;) **

**As for this chapter… I'm going to assume you guys are familiar with the Noveria storyline, because I'm not going to walk you through it in detail… it's a bit boring like that ;)**

**Anyway, the next update (including for Forever As One) will probably be mid-July at the earliest. France, vacation and freedom from technology beckon! C'est la vie, eh? ;p**

* * *

_This is an outrage! You! I demand you place this b – _

Shepard smirked at the memory of Anoleis' arrest. Well, it probably had more to do with the piece of omni-gel she got to slap across his mouth as a reward from Parasini… ah, how she loved being able to slap omni-gel on just about anything. Now, she stood with Liara and Tali at the door to the garage, doing a final check of their gear before heading out into the blizzard. Shepard was absently fiddling with her pistol when she felt a light touch on her elbow. She glanced up, only to find herself looking into Liara's wide blue eyes.

"Commander, your injury… you should let one of us tend it before we head out."

"What? Oh… yeah…" in truth, Shepard had forgotten about the knife wound; her hard suit's automated anaesthetic injection had numbed the pain, and her mind had been on other matters. Cocking a confident grin, she reached out, making to activate the door with the pass Parasini had given her. "Don't worry, Dr T'Soni. I'm fine."

Shepard raised an eyebrow when Liara grabbed at her outstretched arm. "Shepard, please. You are injured and we do not know what the rest of the mission will bring. Please… my mother. Do not underestimate the power of an asari matriarch, or the tenacity of the commando squad she has with her."

The Commander's initial reaction was to berate the asari for her insubordination, but something she could not quite put her finger on stayed her tongue. Still, her eyes narrowed dangerously as she considered the stubborn asari blocking her path.

Tali snorted, even as she piped up. "'You're hurt!' 'I'm fine!' 'You need my help!' 'I'm fine!'… I could say your lines for you two any day. She's right, you know Shepard. Besides, I'm not going to carry you out when you get injured… do you know what a pain it is to get bloodstains off your suit whilst still cocooned inside it?"

The Commander glared at the quarian, who just shrugged innocently in return. "Oh come on, let's just pretend you've made a witty comeback and get you treated so we can finish the mission, ok? It's too cold here… even in a fully-regulated envirosuit."

"Tali," Shepard remarked dryly, even as she held her hands up in mock surrender. "When we get back, you're going to spend some time with Garrus calibrating the Mako's weapon systems. I know how you two _love_ each other's company."

The quarian jerked her head backwards, and Shepard smirked at what she imagined was a look of horror under the mask. Tali's shoulders sagged, before she let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine… anything to get you combat ready so Liara and I don't have to endanger our lives saving yours…"

Shepard snorted, even as she carelessly unfastened her armour, letting her chest piece fall to the floor. She glanced over at Liara's sharp intake of breath; the asari's gaze was fixed on her blood-soaked shirt. "It looks worse than it is, Monday," she said gently. "Always is… see?"

Liara nodded and swallowed as Shepard raised her shirt, baring her midriff. The gash in her side was angry and red, but, as she had said, it was not all that bad; the coagulant in the medi-gel had already stopped the bleeding. Nonetheless, Liara reached for another pack, snapping it open; the hard suit's automated systems were meant to be a staying measure; without proper packing, the wound would just re-open when the sealant broke.

Gingerly, she pushed the stubborn Commander into a sit, as she knelt down beside her. Medi-gel in hand, she looked up expectantly at Shepard; anaesthetic or no, wound packing was guaranteed to be painful initially. The Commander, for her part, merely grit her teeth and nodded her head. She grimaced as Liara filled the wound with medi-gel, applying firm pressure to it. The pain lasted only a few seconds, but the asari would have to hold the gel in place for a full minute in order for it to be most effective. Liara looked up, and blue eyes met green. The expression on Liara's face was empathetic, and Shepard was unconsciously mesmerised.

"Keelah," Tali groaned, shaking her head as she playfully snatched the garage pass from Shepard's hand. "If I see any more of this I'll go off desserts. I'm going to go ready a vehicle and leave you two lovebirds alone."

"We are _not_ lo–"

"Uh-huh." Tali giggled as she sarcastically interrupted Shepard's angry retort. "See you in a couple of minutes."

* * *

Tali squinted from behind her faceplate, trying to give her eyes time to adjust to the darkness of the garage. Humans were so strange in their placement of "switches". On the Fleet, it was always bright in communal areas – even some homes maintained a constant luminosity. She supposed that might have something to do with her face mask's ability to filter an adjustable amount of light.

The blobs finally started taking form, and she made out a couple of Makos, as well as some jeeps. She smirked as she thought of Shepard trying to careen through a blizzard in a jeep. _Keep your mouth shut, Tali… she may just see it as a challenge_. With a little shake of her head, she started making her way towards the Mako closest to the entrance.

No sooner had she taken her first step than her head snapped to the right; she had heard something. She realised as her shields flared that it was the bang of gunfire. She dove to her left, whipping out her shotgun even as her shoulder roared with pain from the impact. Frantically, she tapped on her comm.

"Shepard! Hostiles in the area! I need help!"

* * *

Shepard's head snapped up as soon as she heard the bang.

"Fuck! Tali!"

Yanking on her helmet, she shot up, pausing only to snatch her weapons pack off the ground and slinging it over her back as she dashed to the door. Her chest plate was still on the ground, but she could not afford the extra seconds to re-attach it; Tali may not have that long. A shield generator would have to suffice. Jerking two of her fingers, she signalled Liara to cover the other side of the door.

"Shepard! Hostiles in the area! I need help!"

"Roger, Tali, hold on – we're coming." Giving Liara a curt nod, she reached out, slapping the door open. Hearing no immediate gunfire directed at them, she peeked out. Goddamn darkness! There! Muzzle flash!

Seeing that Liara had noticed it, too, Shepard gestured towards Tali, who had scrambled under a jeep. When Liara nodded, she unleashed a barrage of gunfire in the direction of the muzzle flashes, switching on the flashlight attachment at the same time. Liara used the covering fire to dash towards Tali, erecting a barrier around them both as she slid in beside the quarian.

"Make sure she's ok," Shepard yelled, as she sprinted into the room. "I'll call out if I need a hand."

She had made out three hostiles; from the looks of it, one of them was a Prime. Focusing her energy on lightening herself and shipping her assault rifle, she charged towards the two troopers who were trying to flank her squad mates. She clattered into one of them with teeth-chattering force, even as she grabbed hold of its arm and wrenched it towards its companion. The muzzle ignited just as she directed its aim away from herself, and the second geth crumpled to the floor. With a snarl, she yanked the rifle away from the hapless geth, its body already broken from the force of the impact.

She paused for a split-second, seeing the Prime advancing on Liara, who was stumbling as she simultaneously tried to fire, maintain a barrier and help Tali to some proper cover. Shepard let out a roar, wrenching the head of the geth she stood over off its shoulders. She drew her arm back, blue fire dancing over her skin as she hurled the makeshift projectile at the head of the Prime.

"No one fucks with my crew without my permission, tin can!"

She grinned as the Prime stumbled, the head of the geth impacting with a satisfying 'clunk'.

_Oh fuck_.

The Prime righted itself quickly, its gun already firing in her direction. Shepard dove to the side, even as she unshipped her rifle and let out a hail of bullets in reply. The goddamn Prime seemed to have two guns trained on her; there was not enough of a gap in gunfire to lean out and get a proper attack in.

_Oh well._

Shepard smirked as she visualised where the Prime was, concentrating her energy. It was difficult, but by no means impossible to pull a target without visual contact. Taking a breath, her biotics flared as she yanked her hand towards herself and unshipped her shotgun. Fully expecting to do battle head-first with the Prime, she blinked when she heard the unmistakable sound of a weapon overloading, followed in quick succession by that of a biotic detonation. Reflexively, she erected her barrier against the concussive force of the blast, just in time to prevent herself from being crushed in between the crates she was hiding behind and the wall.

She peeked out, eyes widening as she saw the mangled mess that had been the Prime lying in a heap on the floor.

"We thought you could use a hand, Shepard," Tali chimed, as Liara materialised beside her, offering a hand to help her up.

Shepard snorted, impressed but determined not to show it. "Yeah, well, warn me first next time, smartass." She jerked her head at the Mako parked next to the garage door. "Get it ready, I'm going pick up my chest plate."

Without waiting for a response, she strode towards the entrance to the garage, only to scowl when she was confronted by Captain Maeko Matsuo, her hands folded across her chest and a look of outrage on her face.

"Commander Shepard, explain yourself! You have not only brought firearms onto Noveria, you have also disch–"

"Captain," Shepard snapped, already annoyed. "Your men, in their infinite wisdom somehow managed to miss the fact that your garage's ecosystem has been disrupted by the presence of _geth_. Yes, that's right, _geth_. How the fuck you managed to miss this is beyond me."

Matsuo bristled. "Geth? They have not been seen beyond the Veil in centuries! Commander you are –"

The Captain's weapon snapped up as Shepard sighed, her arm lighting up suddenly with biotics. "Relax, jumpy," came the Commander's wry voice. "If I wanted you dead, it'd have happened before I was unfortunate enough to have to smell your breath."

Shepard glanced over as she flicked her wrist, the twisted head of the geth trooper flying into her hands. Disinterestedly, she tossed it at the Captain. "Happy now?"

"Heavens," Matsuo breathed, "how did they get in here?"

"Seems corporate bullcrap wasn't the only thing Anoleis was skimming money off of. Your scanners evidently need upgrading, Captain."

Matsuo had gone pale, and she swallowed as she gingerly set the head on the ground. "Geth… my men aren't trained for this, Commander."

Shepard nodded as she stepped past into the hallway. She spoke as she picked up her chest piece and snapped it on. "My crew will assist while I'm investigating Peak 15. Hail the Normandy and ask for Lieutenant Alenko. He will coordinate a sweep of the area."

"I… thank you, Commander. I… I feel I may have misjudged you."

Shepard glanced at the Captain, before shrugging and grunting.

"It's a common occurrence, apparently."

* * *

Shepard yanked off her helmet, tossing it into the Mako. Tali was already behind the wheel; she had parked herself there before Shepard had had the chance to commandeer it. She was about to haul herself into the tank when she felt Liara's hand on her wrist. Pausing, she turned.

"What is it, Liara?"

"Shepard, before we go, I feel I must tell you this. I… in the Synthetic Insights office… Sergeant Stirling… I distracted you, caused you to –"

The Commander cut her off with a wave of her hand. "I understand, Monday. Like I said on the Citadel, you have a heart of gold, and," she shrugged, almost helplessly, "from what you must have heard about me…"

"I have never before let the preconceptions of others colour my opinions – on matters both professional and personal. There is no reason for me to start now," Liara insisted firmly. "I… I am sorry, Commander. I should not have presumed your intentions."

Shepard sighed and rubbed her hand over the back of her neck. "Apology accepted, Liara," her face broke into a grin as she slapped the asari on the shoulder. "Now… let's quit fucking around and go kick some ass."

The Commander blinked as Tali let out an exaggerated groan from within the Mako.

"What?"

"I was afraid you were going to say that. For once, can't you say something like 'now… let's quit dithering about and go shopping?' or, 'Liara, will you paint my nails?'"

Shepard's jaw went slack – suffice to say, having one of her crew speak to her like that was something which she had never before experienced.

_You going fuckin' soft, Shep?_

Before she could shoot off a retort, the sound of Tali giggling filled the air. In exasperation, Shepard looked towards Liara, hoping her friend would come to her aid. It was to no avail, however. The asari's head was ducked, her upward-glancing eyes meeting those of the Commander's, even as she tried in vain to hide her amusement behind her hand.

"Oh for fucks' sakes," Shepard groaned, although she could not help the amused grin which had somehow found its way onto her face.

"Alright wisecracks. Let's get a move on."

* * *

Ariadne jumped, reflexively snapping her locket shut as the door to her room hissed open rudely.

"Ms Naxos. Come with me."

Living on the streets of Earth taught one to be observant; Jess had been a master of that, and she had imparted most of her skill to Ariadne when she was showing her how to survive as part of the Reds. The man who had roughly grabbed her wrist was powerfully-built yet slender, with unmistakably Chinese features. He was wearing light black armour – as if he was preparing to infiltrate something, rather than make a frontal assault. Well, aside from the fact that he was armed to the teeth. Aside from the standard weapons pack on his back, she spotted the hilt of a knife peeking out from his boot, grenades adorning his belt, and a spare pistol strapped to his thigh.

"Wh-where are we going?"

The look the man gave her sent a chill down her spine. There was no mirth, verve or soul in his eyes, only cold apathy. "To your objective."

_Liara T'Soni_. The image of the asari sent a surge of anger coursing through Ariadne, and her biotics instinctively flared as she yanked her wrist from the man's grasp.

"You don't need to take me to her," she snarled.

She did not trust anyone; not the hologram who had so cruelly taken her free will, not the Australian bitch who had done this to her, and certainly not this cold bastard who was now roughly shoving her into an unmarked shuttle. What she did trust, however, were her as-yet unresolved feelings for the best friend – _come on Ari, it's more than that and you know it_ – she had betrayed. She had no idea if this asari was who the hologram said she was, but if there was even the slightest chance he was telling the truth… she could not bear the thought of Jess having to go through the pain of betrayal again, having to suffer at the hands of a loved one another time.

She would make it right, even if Jess hated her more for it.

She blinked as the man passed her a needle.

"What's this?"

"Analgesic. You're going to need it."

Ari winced as her thoughts flickered back to the pain she had felt searing through her earlier. Reluctantly, she stabbed the needle into her thigh, depressing the plunger all the way.

The man smirked as he pressed a switch, the blue inferno radiating from Ari dancing off his uncaring eyes.

* * *

Shepard sighed in disappointment as Tali manoeuvred the Mako into the entrance of the Peak 15 compound. _Over already?_ It was not often she got to play with the big guns these days – Ashley always hopped on the turrets without being asked, and the Commander did not usually have the heart to order her off them. That, and while the others were bickering over whose turn it was on the guns, she usually had a few precious seconds to make a beeline for the driver's seat. Once she parked herself there… heh, no amount of cajoling or threats could budge her. She had to admit, though – being on turret duty was refreshing, and the big explosions made her unnaturally happy.

She hopped out of the Mako, only to come face-to-face with Liara's amused, yet exasperated expression.

"What?"

Tali snorted as she slung an arm around Liara's shoulder, guiding her away from the confused Commander. "You're like an overgrown child, Shepard."

"Fuck me, what did I do to earn such abuse?" Shepard muttered to herself as she secured her weapons pack.

"Alright mummy and daddy," she called sarcastically as she trotted up to the entrance where her squad mates were waiting.

"Let's go paint some nails."

* * *

The interior of the Peak 15 compound was unnaturally quiet and dim. For a facility on emergency lockdown, it seemed eerily… lifeless. Shepard brought a finger to her lips, gesturing for silence as she switched off the light attachment on her rifle. When her companions followed suit, she swept into the garage, sprinting deftly into cover. She paused, holding her breath as she listened; she was about to indicate the all-clear when the tell-tale chatter of a geth patrol became audible.

_Always gotta do it the hard way, huh?_

She smirked grimly as she counted the spots of light bouncing off the walls.

_Six. Poor fucks._

Catching Tali's eye (well, insofar as she could), she gestured to her shield generator, then her gun. She shifted her gaze to Liara, making a throwing gesture with her arm. Both squad mates nodded, and Shepard raised three fingers, counting down rhythmically. The moment her fingers balled into a fist, Tali hit a button on her omni-tool, followed in quick succession by another. Shepard wasted no time in arcing a singularity towards the group of sparking synthetics, their shields and weapons now rendered defunct. No sooner had it hit, than Liara was hurling a throw projectile towards the hapless machines. Shepard wasted no time, knowing she only had a split-second before the detonation. Fixing her gaze on the door the geth had entered from, she rapidly erected a barrier over it, hoping that it would absorb the noise of the explosion.

In less than a second, six geth lay on the floor, their bodies a mess of mangled steel. Shepard peered round, and, seeing that the coast was clear, stood and advanced towards the far door.

"Nice work, ladies," she murmured.

"Please, Shepard, at least make it a challenge before you commend us."

Shepard sighed, rolling her eyes behind her face plate. "You just _had_ to say that, didn't you Tali…"

The quarian giggled quietly, even as Liara mumbled a quiet "Goddess…" in the background.

Suddenly, Shepard froze in mid-stride. With a harsh swipe of her arm, she ordered her companions to do the same. She had heard… something. Almost like a shuffling, scratching sound. It had come from her right; she glanced over, but there was nothing there – no cover to hide behind, no doorways or windows concealing another room to clear. Cautiously, she crept over, weapon trained in front of her.

Nothing.

Her eyes narrowed – she had the unnerving feeling that they were being watched, but she could not for the life of her see by whom.

"Come on… let's move," she muttered, unable to shake her growing unease.

* * *

Kai Leng watched the trio advance through the hacked surveillance feeds on his omni-tool. They would soon be at Ventralis' little camp. Benezia's lackey would distract Shepard there; that was where he would unleash the virus – if he was smart about it, the quarian would be none the wiser.

He glanced over at his captive, who was standing in the shadows getting used to the new powers at her disposal.

"Be ready."

* * *

Shepard was quickly tiring of all the dumb geth patrolling the compound. They had cleared four corridors worth of rooms now, and had encountered mostly geth troopers. Nothing they could not handle, but she honestly would have expected heavier resistance by now. That, and… w_here the fuck are all the eggheads?_

She sighed internally as they reached the end of yet another corridor, this one opening into a snow-filled room. The door had been inexplicably wrenched off its frame, lying crumpled in the middle of the room. The far wall was ruined; it looked like some kind of explosion had gone off, exposing the interior to the harsh elements outside. Despite the aural dampers in her helmet, she could still make out the howling of the wind on the outside.

_The fuck is going on in this shithole?_

Cursing silently, she pressed herself against the doorframe, indicating for the others to stay back. Leaning out ever so slightly, she blinked in surprise as she saw a pile of geth bodies in the centre of the room. There were no signs of weapon discharge; if anything, the geth looked to have been ripped limb from limb. The only visible damage was some sort of splash effect, which had melted the steel it had come into contact with.

Not seeing or hearing anything, she decided to chance swinging into the room, assault rifle raised. She was almost disappointed when no gunfire erupted; at least that would somewhat explain the pile of scrap metal in the room. With a jerk of her head, she beckoned Tali and Liara into the room.

"Tali, can you make out what disabled those geth?"

"Sure, Shepard. Give me a minute."

The Commander looked over, noticing that Liara was being unusually quiet. The exuberance and curiosity that always seemed to radiate from her were gone. "Hey… Monday. You alright?"

The asari nodded tiredly. "Yes, Shepard." She shrugged helplessly as she raised her soulful eyes to meet the Commander's. "It's just… we haven't come across any of the people who must have worked here. The thought that my mother could… she brought the geth… Goddess."

In an instant, Shepard was standing beside her, face plate raised as she firmly cupped the asari's head between both her hands. "Liara, we don't _know_ anything yet. I promise you we'll find out, but I need you to stay focused, ok?"

Liara's intake of breath was deep but tremulous as she nodded. "Y-yes, Shepard. Of cou–"

Her words were cut off as Shepard's head snapped to the left, roughly yanking the asari behind her as she brought her face plate down.

"Tali," Shepard hissed, her weapon raised. "Get over here!"

The party formed a circle, covering every angle as the scratching noise returned. Shepard's eyes narrowed as she led them slowly towards the source of the noise. It seemed to be coming from the far wall, except there was nothing there but…

_Vents! FUCK!_

"Get down!" Shepard yelled, even as the covers to the vents erupted in an ear-piercing screech. Reflexively, she threw up a barrier in anticipation of gunfire, even as she slammed into her two companions, driving them behind an overturned desk. Somewhat puzzled when none was forthcoming, she peeked over the desk, only to be confronted with the largest fucking bug she had ever seen.

"Oh Keelah… spiders? Shepard…!"

As if suddenly sensing them, the bug charged, a foul, putrid jet of green shooting from its mouth.

"Fuck!"

Shepard ducked back behind the desk, yanking Tali down with her. Her eyes widened in alarm as she heard the tell-tale fizzling of dissolving metal. _They spit fucking acid? Does every motherfucking worm and insect in this god-forsaken galaxy _have_ to vomit acid?_

Cursing, she leapt over the desk, opening fire as she did so. There were two that she could see; Liara, acting on instinct, had suspended the closest one in a stasis field, and Tali was already opening fire with her shotgun. That left the one at the top of the stairs for Shepard to take care of. Not giving it a chance to register her new position, she charged, ramming the barrel of her rifle into its abdomen, the one place she had seen which was not covered by exoskeleton. She smirked grimly as it gave way with a satisfying squelch, before opening fire directly into it. The beast slumped, and she kicked it carelessly to the side.

"What the fuck are these things?"

Tali and Liara were knelt over the first insect, examining its remains.

"I do not know, Shepard, but… I do not think they are natives of Noveria."

"What makes you say that?"

Liara shrugged as she gestured to the gruesome remains. "They were hiding in the vents; this suggests they prefer a warmer climate. This insect… its stomach is empty. It probably only left the confines of the ducts because it was ravenous."

Tali nodded sagely. "I agree. It is unlikely the geth would provide adequate nourishment." She cocked her head to the side, holding up her hands in mock surrender at the looks the others were shooting her. "Whaaaat?"

"Goddamn eggheads," Shepard cursed. "C'mon… let's try and figure out what the fuck is going on here."

"Keelah, Shepard… spiders were _not_ part of the deal. I joined to help you fight geth!"

Shepard laughed, winking as she threw an arm around the reluctant quarian. "C'mon kiddo… I'll make you a deal. Stick it out, and I'll find some way for you to share a drink with Garrus and me… maybe an emergency induction port of some kind."

Tali groaned, even as Liara giggled. "Fiiiiiine…"

* * *

Shepard's eyes narrowed as she regarded the stammering doctor in front of her. She was sick and tired of mistrustful people and unethical researchers trying to cover their asses. Ventralis and his goddamn men had trained their guns on her for a full minute. Sometimes, it made her heart sink, thinking how stupid the average person could be, then reminding herself that half the population was dumber than that. They were under siege by geth and overgrown bugs, for fucks' sakes. She would have thought _any_ human would have been a welcome sight. Dumb fucks.

Now, Tali was busy in the bowels of the refugee camp, trying to fix the water supply. The remaining scientists had already gone nearly three days without fresh water – any longer, and there may not be any of them to evacuate. The quarian had insisted she was ok investigating the issue alone – besides, Shepard apparently needed to be briefed on an emergency matter. Liara had volunteered to go to the maintenance area to search for emergency supplies; the survivors had made a cursory search, but, to be honest, they were so doped up with stims and so fatigued from hunger and thirst that Shepard would not have been surprised if they missed a pack of medi-gel shoved in their faces.

"Dr Cohen, my time is short. Spill it."

"I… part of the research being carried out here… I was under contract you see…"

"Dr Cohen, you have exactly 10 seconds to tell me what the fuck you want from me. After that, you can kiss my ass. I know you're researching illegal bioweapons, so get to the point already."

"Uh… it's an aerosolised virus. I… uh… some of it was… accidentally released."

"Accidentally?" Shepard tone was incredulous. "You managed to break quarantine on a _bioweapon_? Jesus fuck, if you can't laugh at your own stupidity, I'd be happy to do so for you!"

"Commander please… these men… they're innocent. There's a cure… it's in the lab… it just needs to be mixed."

"And why aren't they ill?"

"The release is remotely-controlled… I… I'm not in control of the trigger."

"You don't seem very worried about your own well-being, doctor."

"I…" the doctor's gaze was fixed firmly on the floor as he mumbled. "I've already injected myself with the antidote. It's protective for a month."

Shepard had heard enough, as she angrily pressed him up against the wall. "You fucking coward," she sneered. "You said it's aerosolised. That means every single person here's infected?"

The doctor swallowed, nodding carefully. "Y-yes…"

The Commander's glare was icy, her elbow shoving into the doctor's chest unkindly. "Don't even think about lying, doctor. I have a very sensitive bullshit meter and a very trigger-happy finger. What about my squad and me?"

"Y-you'll have been exposed too… the asari should be safe, b-but I don't know if the quarian virus was also released… t-there's no q-quarian antidote."

"You little piece of shit!" Shepard snarled, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Alright doctor, I'll play your little game. I'll get you your antidote. But then… then, you're mine. I'm going to lock you up in that lab with no food or drink until you come up with something for Tali. And if you don't… I swear to God, you being infected with this virus will be the _least_ of your troubles."

* * *

Kai Leng smirked as he watched the quarian come into view.

_Too simple_.

It had been easy, sabotaging the water supply all those days ago. Shepard and her squad were such goody-two-shoes that they would not have passed through without _one_ of them attempting to fix it. The engineer was the obvious choice… as he had predicted.

_Stupid street rat_.

Never taking his eyes off the girl, he reached into his pocket, removing the viral spray. His finger hovered over the release mechanism.

In just a few seconds, the alien scum would be within range…

* * *

The door closed behind Shepard, and she heard the lock engage. Ventralis had not been impressed when she had demanded entry into the labs.

_I'm not risking my men, Commander_

_You're already exposed, you dumb fuck!_

_You'll excuse me if I don't believe that. You want to martyr yourself, fine… just don't expect me to let you out until the scans show you're all-clear._

_Jesus fuck, fine. Have it your way, coward._

The components were exactly where Cohen said they would be. She was fuming, but then again, she did not have time to waste. Even though Cohen had said the release of the viral toxin was remotely-controlled, he had admitted there may have been a security flaw in his signal protocol. It was _possible_ that the trigger mechanism had been hacked; there was no way of knowing for sure and by whom. If it had been hacked, however, then everyone needed the cure immediately… there was no telling when the sick fuck might decide to release the toxin. She activated the machine, waiting as the chemicals were mixed. Then, vials were sequentially filled and packed into steel storage boxes. Two should suffice for the entire camp.

She raised an eyebrow as she heard the lock on the door disengage.

"Change your mind, Captain?" she asked, not bothering to turn around.

"On the contrary…" the voice was distinctly asari; Shepard whirled, eyes widening as a biotic projectile hurtled towards her. She barely had the time to swat it away and register the presence of three assailants, before she felt herself thrown against the wall.

"I think you deserve a rest, Commander."

* * *

Liara was rummaging through the pile of forgotten supplies in the maintenance area. In some ways, she felt like she was back on an archaeological dig site – the atmosphere was dark and quiet, and she was digging for unfound treasure. Well… insofar as nutrient paste could be considered treasure.

She was vaguely aware of footsteps coming up behind her, but she assumed it was Shepard – the gait sounded like the Commander's – coming to check up on her.

"Shepard?" she called out.

The footsteps paused just behind her. Liara began to turn, but her head jerked violently to the side as a fist crashed into her skull. She collapsed to the floor, her eyes swimming. She could feel blood running down the side of her head, taste the copper as it seeped into her mouth.

_Get up, T'Soni!_

Struggling, she rolled onto her back, her biotics flaring. Another punch in the gut winded her, before she got a look at her attacker, her eyes widening in shock.

"A-Ariadne?"

* * *

**Oh snap, look where this chapter ended!**

**TBC…**

**Maybe ;)**


	25. Chapter 25: Oh, Hi!

**A/N: trololololol! You guys and girls have no faith in me. Seriously, what could I **_**possibly**_** ever have done for you to believe I'd leave you hanging like that for two weeks? :P **

**So yeah… this update has **_**absolutely **__**nothing**_** to do with tayg publicly holding me to ransom (seriously, thank her), or the torrent of *cough* loving *cough* abuse you guys were so kind to leave ;)**

**Enjoy the short (sorry, length constrained by 2hr train journey) cliffhanger-less (mmmhmm?) chapter… I'm out before the other half throws a Shepard-esque fit. See what I do for you… group hug? A bit more lovin'? ;P**

* * *

Shepard barked in pain as the air was driven from her lungs. Acting on instinct, she reflexively threw up a barrier, even as she felt her body slide to the floor. Tucking herself into a ball, she pushed off from the wall, rolling into cover behind the lab machinery. Shaking her head vigorously to clear the fog, she glanced around, cursing internally at how she had let Ventralis confiscate her weapons and armour; he had given her some horseshit excuse about how they would interfere with decontamination procedures.

_Besides, Commander, aren't we all already exposed? Shouldn't make a difference if you go in helmeted or not. No need to worry about the bugs, either. Labs are sealed with irradiated positive pressure ventilation systems. Ain't no critter gonna make it through without getting fried first._

_You're a goddamn fool, Shepard. _She had been careless; too impatient to get the cure and get off this damn facility. Under normal circumstances, there would have been no way Ventralis would have gotten his way. She needed a weapon, and fast. There was no way she and her trusty boot knife would survive unarmoured in a toe-to-toe battle against three well-armed, and apparently well-trained, biotics. The only thing she had going for her was that they were unhelmeted. Asari mercs could be arrogant like that.

_C'mon Shep, think! At this rate, you'd be lucky if you could so much as give one of those bitches a gigantic fucking wedgie before they blow your brains out._

The silly thought made her smirk, even as she surveyed her surroundings. _Buy some time_.

"You know, just for once, I wish one of your meatheads would surprise me with a fucking pizza delivery… or flowers… or chocolate. Hell, even a fucking Chihuahua would be preferable to every single one of you fucks trying to blow my brains out all the time. Number one rule of dating. Don't. Be. Predictable."

"Do you always talk this much Commander? Come now. Stand up and I promise I'll kill your two companions quickly. I do hate breaking a sweat."

Shepard grinned as she spotted what her assailants were standing under. On the desk she was crouched beside, there was some pencil and paper. Archaic, but she supposed it was useful for on-the-fly record-taking.

"Yeah? Couldn't have guessed that, 'cos you smell like vorcha shit. I think it's time you had a shower."

With that, she yanked the emergency contaminant leak cord, letting out a laugh as alarms started wailing and the decontamination shower activated. In an instant, all three asari were bombarded by powerful ice-cold jets of water, causing them to jump and yelp in surprise. That was all the distraction Shepard needed, as she lunged for the pencils, grabbing one in each hand. Spinning, blue wisps of power skimming over her bare arms, she hurled the makeshift projectiles, letting out a whoop of glee as each found their target. The two asari flanking the leader crumpled to the ground, the only evidence as to their cause of death being the streams of purple flowing from the holes in their foreheads.

The remaining asari, to her credit, recovered quickly, diving out of sight before Shepard could unleash another barrage. The Commander ducked back down swiftly as a torrent of gunfire was unleashed, peppering the wall behind her with bullet holes. The decontamination shower was making it difficult to pin-point the asari's location. Not only was it loud, but it also reduced visibility drastically. Shepard supposed it at least meant the assassin was having the exact same trouble locating her.

The Commander inched along the machine, quietly removing her boot knife as she did so. As she came to the edge, she paused, pressing her face into the corner, trying to see around it without giving away her position. _Goddamn shower_. Admitting it was pointless trying to see through the relentless jet of water, Shepard looked around, trying to find a concealed path by which she could flank her attacker.

Suddenly, a glint caught her eye; a feral grin spread across her face as she realised it was a reflection off her would-be assassin's flaring biotics. _Rookie error. Gotcha, shit for brains._ Shepard watched as the asari extended her arm, preparing to arc a singularity to trap her prey. The moment her focus was diverted towards creating the sphere of dark energy, the Commander leapt from her hiding place, charging towards her target. She barely registered the searing iciness or the brutal beating of the waterfall she passed under as she materialised next to her target.

Shepard yanked the asari's arm backwards, spinning her around, just as the singularity began to take shape. Smirking at her attacker's surprised yelp, she ferociously swung her combat knife at the asari's bare neck. The assassin was no pushover, though. In a surprisingly swift recovery, she blocked the incoming knife, swatting Shepard's arm away with a pulse of biotic energy, before ramming the butt of her rifle into the Commander's unprotected midsection.

Shepard stumbled backwards, gasping for breath and against the pain in her stomach. Out of the corner of her swimming vision, she vaguely registered a right hook hurtling towards her face. _Not enough time to block. Oh well, sorry, Chakwas._ Gritting her teeth, she allowed the punch to meet her jaw, turning her face with the impact so as to lessen the force of the blow. Immediately, while the asari's centre of gravity was off, she reached up, yanking on the assassin's outstretched arm and pulling her forwards roughly. There was a satisfying crack as her attacker's nose impacted her knee.

Pausing only to spit out some of the blood flooding her mouth, she grasped the asari by her crest, barely able to maintain a grip, as they were both soaking wet. The assassin's eyes flashed in anger as they met Shepard's. Ignoring the torrent of blood flowing from her broken nose, she lunged at the Commander, blue fire dancing all over her body. Shepard feigned to the right, letting out a soft laugh when the asari fell for it. Without giving her enough time to recover, the Commander plunged her knife into the assassin's neck.

"Next time, go with the candy and flowers, dumbass."

Angrily wringing her hair of water, Shepard stalked over to the now-manufactured cure, hauling the boxes under her arm as she wiped her knife off on her trousers.

_Cohen better be fucking right about this_, she fumed, as she slapped open the door to the lab. The quarantine break was just too convenient. She did not trust the man; he was a serpent if she had ever met one – it seemed out of character for him to want to help the refugees – and her – out of the goodness of his heart. Whatever his intentions, she was going to need someone a lot smarter – and a lot geekier – to make sense of the damn mess. She shook her head lightly, trying to clear the remaining haze. Tali would be busy trying to fix the water systems; much as she hated to postpone her objective, a couple of hours would probably be needed to beat some sense into Cohen, anyway. That, and the survivors deserved the chance to make it out of this mess alive.

_Liara, then._

She sighed; the last thing the asari needed right now was to worry about trying to disentangle the complexities of a bioweapon. Her mother was in deep in the mother of all dung piles, and they might very well have to take her down. Then again, Shepard figured she did not really have a choice. There was no way she would be able to figure this out on her own; especially not if Cohen was up to something else and was trying to misdirect her. Reluctantly, she activated her omni-tool, opening a comm link to Liara.

"Hey, Monday, how's the scavenging going? Listen, uh, I'm gonna need to pick your brains on something… meet me in the mess in a couple of minutes, alright?"

* * *

Kai Leng's gaze was fixed intently on the approaching quarian, his finger tensed over the trigger of the viral spray. Suddenly, his attention was drawn towards a scratching sound off to his right. Keeping an eye on the street rat with his peripheral vision, he glanced over, trying to make out the source of the noise. He knew that there had been a problem with breeding the rachni here; Cerberus had managed to acquire some of the choice specimens a week or so ago, though, so he had not concerned himself much with the research. He had not had the time to fully appraise this particular situation – he knew that a few rachni had escaped confinement, but what the exact problem was, he could not be sure.

Still, he could not risk the Illusive Man's plans going awry. He prided himself on getting the job done, and this particular one was made all the more fulfilling since it involved making aliens suffer. He glanced back at the quarian, cursing internally when he realised she had stopped in her tracks, her weapon drawn. Damn girl must have heard it, too. He briefly considered moving closer towards her, or attacking, before deciding against it. She would continue on soon enough. Besides, the Illusive Man had been very clear that he wanted as little intrusion as possible; they were to attack and intervene without anyone even suspecting their involvement.

The quarian had backed up a little, scanning the room intently with her shotgun.

_She's not getting away!_

Kai Leng was watching his prey so intently that it was too late when the next sound hit his ears. Spinning to his right, his eyes widened as he found himself face-to-face with three gigantic insects. He cursed his carelessness, even as he dropped onto his back, unsheathing his boot knife in one fluid motion. The ruckus was an acceptable compromise; with luck, the street rat would put it down to the rachni and be on her way. He would just have to take care of business without firing his weapons.

Swinging wildly, he sneered as he felt his knife glance off the hard exoskeleton of the rachni. Glancing through the vent covers quickly, he saw the quarian rapidly backing up. He was going to have to chance it. Knowing he did not have long to act, he brought the spray to his mouth, yanking the cover off with his teeth. Instantly, a hiss filled the room as the pressurised contents of the canister were released. Throwing up a barrier with one hand, he flung the canister through the vent cover, directly at the quarian. Immediately, she dove out of sight; there was nothing he could do now, but get out and monitor the situation from the video feeds.

He hissed in pain as his barrier collapsed under the relentless barrage of the three rachni. How he had gotten himself into this situation, he did not quite know – it was completely uncharacteristic. Obviously, his desire to see the street rat dead was stronger than he had thought. _Later, Leng! Concentrate!_

The self-berating could wait; if he did not kill these bugs currently trying to eat him alive, there would be nothing left to rebuke. A blast of biotic energy sent the rachni careening backwards; he was careful not to direct any of them into the room lest the quarian come back with help and see where the canister had come from. He scrambled to his feet, preparing to charge. However, just as he was pushing himself off the ground, three jets of acid came flying towards him. Reflexively, he managed to bat two away, but could not react to the third in time.

He snarled in pain as the jet whizzed past his left ear, a proportion of it falling onto his face and neck. _Should have worn a damn helmet._ Instinctively, he brought a hand up to his head, trying to swipe some of the corrosive material off before it ate into bone or an important blood vessel. With his free hand, he hurled his knife at the rachni, cursing as it struck the bug's exoskeleton, clattering to the ground without making so much as a scratch.

He whipped out his pistol; to hell with subtlety, his priority now was to get out. With luck, the insects would be dead and he would be gone by the time the quarian returned. With a growl, he unloaded an entire clip into the first rachni, falling to his stomach even as he reloaded the second clip. Another two jets of acid sailed overhead. He struggled to train the sights of his weapon on his target – distance perception was notoriously difficult with one eye. He felt his heart hammering in his chest as some acid started to drip from the top of the vent; some of the cursed stuff was falling onto his other eye, and he could not maintain a barrier, shoot and protect the injured side of his face all at the same time.

He tried to roll onto his side to avoid the dripping acid, but unfortunately that just gave the two remaining bugs time to charge. He fired his weapon, and diverted his energy momentarily from the barrier to hurl a projectile at the oncoming rachni. One of them fell, but the other kept coming. The acid was in his other eye now, and his vision started to blur as he glared at the remaining foe. He was vaguely aware of a sharp pain in his side as a razor-edged claw pieced it. With all the strength he could muster, he swung the butt of his pistol, hitting the rachni again and again.

He felt himself crash to the ground as the insect's hold on him loosened. Not waiting to check if the accursed thing was dead, Kai Leng hastily erected another barrier as he stumbled desperately back along the path he had come from. The mission still needed completing, but he had to get to a decontamination spray immediately if he were to have any hope of saving his vision.

His muscles tensed as he heard more scratching from all around him.

This was far from over.

* * *

Ariadne blinked, her follow-up swing freezing in mid-air. The asari she had been pointed to was lying crumpled on the floor, wincing in pain. She had one hand pressed against the gash on her temple, and another clenching at her stomach. Snarling, Ari grasped the injured woman by the fastenings of her hard suit, hauling her up and fixing her with a furious glower.

"How the hell do you know my name?"

The asari was gasping for breath, and her eyes were brimming with tears from the pain. Ari immediately felt compelled to apologise, to sit her down and tend to her wounds; it had never been in her nature to inflict pain for the hell of it. But the hologram's words haunted her.

_When Saren's mission is done, she will kill Commander Shepard._

She could not take the chance that those words may be true. So, she steeled herself and hardened her eyes as she shook the trembling asari roughly.

"I said, _how the hell do you know my name?_"

The other woman, despite being in obvious agony, admirably showed no fear. Her soulful blue eyes searched Ari's dark brown ones piercingly as she took a deep breath, obviously trying to steady her words.

"Jessica told me."

Ari blinked, her grip faltering in shock. Apparently, that was all the leeway the asari needed. Ari squinted against the dazzling blue inferno which seemed to radiate from her opponent. She did not even have time to register what was happening as a blast of biotic energy sent her clattering to the ground. She cried out in pain as she heard a soft, but distinct, crack. Her vision flashed white, before the colour returned as she drew her next agonising breath. She looked around, disorientated, trying to find her enemy. A flash of blue caught her attention, and her own biotics flared as she attempted to counter the attack. It was too little, too late however, as she felt the crushing force of the asari's foot against her chin, the back of her head crashing mercilessly into the floor.

Vaguely, she registered a cry of rage, as she felt herself being dragged viciously along the floor and shoved against the far wall. She was only semi-conscious of being yanked to her feet, before she again found herself face-to-face with the asari. For a while, she thought she must have been hallucinating. The asari's face was filled with rage – not something unexpected – but there was also betrayal, hurt and sorrow in her expression. Tears streamed down her face as her captivatingly-expressive eyes pierced Ari's.

"Why, Ariadne?"

Ari shook her head roughly, trying in vain to figure out what the hell was going on. She felt like she had been hit by a sledgehammer; her mouth was swimming in blood, and some teeth felt like they had been knocked loose. Still, she had no doubt in her mind now that this bitch could kill Jess if she wanted to.

"Why _what?_" she spat, sneering in grim pleasure as red blotches mixed in with the purple marring that pretty face.

"Why would you ruin something so beautiful? _She trusted you!_"

Ari felt her jaw go slack. The asari's words had been choked, and her entire body was shaking with emotion. If Ari had not known better, she would have thought she had betrayed the asari, not Jess. No one could possibly be that good an actress, to be able to fake that kind of hurt… could they?

_But how the hell does she… oh… Jesus Christ. No…_

The realisation hit Ari with the force of a freight train. Of course that bastard had lied. She had no idea why, but she cursed herself for even lending him an ounce of credence. Jess had bloody taught her better than that. This asari was not out to kill Jess; the only way she could have known all that…

Ari's chest ached; she felt like she had been stabbed through the heart. She no longer cared if the asari tried to kill her; in fact, she almost wanted her to. She felt her own eyes heat with tears as she felt her gaze waver. She could no longer look the other woman in the eye. It was like trying to look Jess in the eye when she had… the thought of the cigarette only worsened the searing agony she felt inside; her physical pain felt dull in comparison.

_They love each other._

"I…" Ari's voice was barely a whisper; she was fighting to keep it steady, let alone audible. "I'm sor–"

"Liara!"

Both women's heads snapped towards the familiar voice. The asari's eyes widened in relief; Ari could not quite see the source – there were some crates in the way – but it was a voice she knew all too well. The sound had once been sweet music to her ears, her eye of the hurricane, her solace. Not one day had passed since that fateful moment when she had not longed to find comfort in it again. Now, now it was here again – it had not changed one bit. Yet, paradoxically, Ari felt herself shrinking from it, terrified at the prospect of coming face-to-face with its owner. This was the moment she had both longed for and dreaded for 11 years.

"I am alright, Shepard. Please wait there a moment. I…" the asari glanced momentarily at Ariadne, her expression uncertain. "Shepard I do not know how to say this… I think she tried to kill me, but… I think it would be better if you saw for yourself."

Cautiously, the asari loosed her grip on Ari. Despite her initial anger and hurt, her entire countenance shifted as she seemed to sense Ari's terror. The look she gave Ari was not one of fury or betrayal, but one of empathy and understanding as she laid a hand gently on her shoulder. Ari was confused – this asari had no reason to trust her, and certainly had no reason to be kind to her. She could not possibly know Ari's side of the tale – if all she had was what Jess had shared with her, then surely she must want her dead. What in heaven's name was she up to?

Ari swallowed, feeling herself pushing her body back into the wall. She could not face Jess… not like this. The hand on her shoulder tightened, the grip firm, but still gentle, as it guided her away from the wall.

"Monday… what the fuck is going on here? You're bleeding!"

Ari could hear the sound of approaching footsteps, hear the familiar concern and impatience in that voice. Her heart was thumping so loudly in her chest she was amazed she could even hear anything else. The asari's hand was still on her shoulder, but her body and head were now faced towards the approaching woman. A hand reached out from behind the crates, concernedly exploring the asari's injury. _Liara. Her name is Liara_.

"I am alright, Shepard. Please… you need to see her."

Liara's free hand reached up to the wrist, gently grasping hold of it and stopping its fussing over her head. Ari's heart stopped in her chest as the wrist turned into an arm, then a shoulder, then, finally…

Her.

Jess' face went pale, the gun she held in her other hand clattering to the floor.

"_Ari?_"

Ari's voice had deserted her. It was all she could do to mouth the name of the woman she had loved. Still loved.

"J-Jess…"


	26. Chapter 26: Eye of the Tiger

**A/N: oh, was this story due for an update? I'm sorry, it slipped my mind… ;p In all seriousness, thanks for staying tuned. I am genuinely sorry for the delay – it has not been intentional. I was not going to update this month because of manic RL commitments, but some cajoling from the ladies below (surprise!) persuaded me to do so. If you like this story (!), then you have them to thank for the update. The next one will be in early-mid August.**

**Also, for those of you who played tayg's little game… six right guesses, five wrong. Tsk… this could have been out sooner, you know. As for Forever As One… well… there's a certain enigmatic someone y'all need **_**T.A.**_** badger for that. She's got talent which I lack, and is hiding in the **_**Black**_**ness of a dank **_**well**_** somewhere ;)**

* * *

Tali tucked herself into a roll, shielding her head with her arms as she dove for cover. _Keelah, I hope these walls hold_. Whatever had made that commotion, it was definitely something more sinister than those… spiders. She avoided bugs as much as possible, but even she knew insects did not just hurl grenades. Tali was actually silently grateful to be facing a bipedal foe – she had far fewer issues with them than with insects. They had fought too many of those things for the quarian's liking.

On the Fleet, there were always people around to take care of unwanted visitors for her. Thorough as the ships' filtration systems were, arachnids were fastidious little boshtet, and every so often, there would be one just waiting to make her jump out of her suit. Her inevitable shriek would attract the tearful laughter of Kal'Reegar and Nala'Raan, but at least they almost always acquiesced and dealt with the threat for her. Her favourite "Reegar versus the Spider" episode had to be when Kal calmly aimed his shotgun at the offending bug, nonchalantly pulling the trigger while saluting a photo of Rael'Zorah. Tali's mattress had been ruined, and having to sleep on the floor for a week was a stern reminder that Nala's help should always be sought first in the future. Keelah, after all that, Reegar had not even managed to kill the insect; she had woken a few days later to the sight of its hairy underbelly festooning her face mask. Some protector he turned out to be!

Despite his ineptitude with dealing with creatures hundredths his size, Tali could not help but wish he was here as she reflexively scrunched her eyes shut, awaiting the coming explosion. _18… 19… 20… Keelah, no one would set a grenade to detonate after more than 20 seconds… would they?_

Slowly, the quarian opened one eye, then the other, as she cautiously lowered her arms from her head. Pressing herself into the wall, shotgun gripped tightly in her hands, she inched towards the doorway. Her eyes widened in alarm as the tell-tale hissing of a discharging, pressurised aerosol hit her ears. Instinctively, she activated her omni-tool, her fingers flying across the holographic keyboard as she quickly input commands to seal off all individual suit compartments. All her filtration systems were active, but she had no idea what she was dealing with or if there were any micro tears in her suit. Plus, as far as she was concerned, it was far better to be paranoid than deal with a stupid infection. Those herbal supplements tasted awful – there was no way she was going to chance having to take them again.

Satisfied that she was fully insulated against the external environment – quarian suits had, after all, been engineered to resist virtually every known pathogen – she once again raised her weapon, training it at the open doorway. The hissing was fizzling out now, although there were no visible or olfactory signs of whatever chemical or biological agent had been released wafting through the doorway. Quickly, she mentally ran through the list of major biochemical weapons which were both odourless and colourless, reflexively glancing up at her own airflow metrics as she did so. As far as she could recall, her suit should adequately protect her against the majority of the most dangerous ones.

Taking care to ensure she exposed as little of herself to enemy fire as possible, Tali peeked out, swiftly scanning the room. The canister lay innocently just inside the doorway, but aside from the metallic cylinder, there was no sign that anyone aside from her had been in the room. The quarian withdrew her head, letting the back of it fall softly against the wall as she pondered her options, shotgun still clutched tightly in her hands. Whoever threw the canister could not have disappeared into thin air. They did not exit from the doorway; she would have seen them. Then, the only other access point…

Tali smiled thinly as she realised her attacker must have been holed up inside the ventilatory system. _Oh you have a nice surprise party waiting, you cowardly boshtet._

Suddenly, her eyes snapped to her HUD, widening in alarm as her suit's hazard indicators began flashing, the tell-tale warning beeps sounding with ever-increasing urgency. Her air exchange filter was blinking, its outline highlighted in red. Reflexively, Tali sealed off the filter, switching to her small oxygen reserve while activating her omni-tool at the same time. The message caused her heart to skip a beat.

'Foreign genetic material detected. Sequence unrecognised.'

Quickly, she started a suit-wide scan, somewhat relieved when the on-board sensors only seemed to have detected the foreign material in the isolated filters. But… if the life-form had gotten through her filters… there was no way for her to know if her seals would hold. Plus, her oxygen reserves would not last long, and there was no telling how many more people might be at risk.

Tali closed her eyes as she raced through her options. She was potentially already exposed. What fate befell her, she could not guess, but at least she might be able to warn the others. Setting her jaw, she lifted herself away from the wall, entering the room and scanning the spent canister with her omni-tool. Extrapolating from the discharge interval and the dimensions of the cylinder, she calculated the number of particles contained within. From then on, it was simple to model random particle movements and diffusive capacity, allowing her to work out a contamination radius.

Satisfied that said radius was well within the deserted maintenance area, she sealed the door, locking it and hacking the override such that it would only respond to a command from her omni-tool. Hurriedly bringing up a map of the area, she headed for the nearest decontamination room, careful to take a route almost certain to be deserted and sealing doors behind her as she went.

* * *

Kai Leng towelled himself off angrily, his skin red and raw from the heat and force of the shower he had just subjected himself to. His mouth twisted into a snarl as the rough cotton fibres dragged unkindly across his acid-scarred skin, but he refused to slow in his towelling motion. The pain would remind him never to be so disregarding of his surroundings again. He had managed to elude the rachni, but not without first sacrificing his dignity. Thank fuck there were no surveillance cameras in the ventilation shafts.

He ran a finger over the gaping wound piercing the firm flesh of his bottom, wincing as he defined the injury through tactile feedback. Fortunately, major blood vessels and nerves had been avoided, but Kai Leng was more worried about the consequences of the injury. The rachni's claw had buried itself disturbingly close to the midline; if any support structures had been disturbed, controlling when he needed to take a dump could be… problematic. He grit his teeth tightly in anger as he considered his options. Lawson and Wilson were arrogant tools who would delight in his plight; there was no way he could seek treatment within Cerberus and keep his dignity intact. If he left the wound unattended, it would probably heal eventually, but there was not a snowflake's chance in hell he was condemning himself to wearing a diaper. Assassinating marks and engaging in all acts of subterfuge under his remit would be damn near impossible if people could hear him waddling from a mile away. He could have surgery to repair any damaged sphincters, but the thought of some stranger sewing up his ass crack…

_Goddamnit, Leng. You don't even know it's been compromised! Focus. Mission first._ Growling, he snatched a first aid kit off the wall, snapping open the tube of medigel within with practiced ease. Glancing around to make sure he was well out of the field of view of the security cams, he reached around, squirting the contents of the entire tube into his injured pride. Times like this, he hated that pressure had to be applied to medigel packings for the best outcome. He had too much to do, and too little time; by his estimations, Naxos should have long encountered the alien scum.

Again looking around while chiding himself for his sudden self-consciousness, he bent over, pressing his bottom firmly into the wall, clenching as tightly as possible, as he fired up his omni-tool. The tracer they had planted on Naxos was still blinking, and with a few taps, all her vitals were displayed for him to see. Judging by the ferocity with which her marker was moving around the map, and her spiking vitals, she was in the middle of quite the battle. He smiled thinly; the blue bitch had no idea what she was dealing with. He would have to head over to check out the situation anyway, but at least now he knew he could afford himself an extra minute to suit up properly and prepare.

Satisfied that the wound had been adequately tended to, he got dressed, silently regarding the little device that Lawson had created and The Illusive Man had given him. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that the cheerleader's plan was ingenious; adapting Banes' theory to implant a virtually unlimited supply of excitatory neurotransmitters within the motor cortex, released in specific sub-areas at will through radio-frequency activation, was as close a thing to mind control as humanity could hope to achieve with current technology. Of course, the subject's thoughts would still be their own, but they would not have the power to act of their own volition. Even if they wanted to _articulate_ their thoughts or emotions, they could not – speech is, after all, ultimately a product of finely-tuned muscle movements.

He smiled thinly as he considered the ease with which he could act the puppet master. Naxos was his to control, and Shepard would be none the wiser when her little blue slag lay dead in her estranged lover's arms.

* * *

Liara was distantly aware of how shocked she was at her own fury. Never in her 106 years had she lashed out with such vehemence. Yes, she had defended herself when the situation dictated violence necessary, but never had she actually wanted to kill, to _maim_, anyone till a few moments ago. She had always prided herself on restraint, on her calm, rigorous logic. To have such feral, base emotions take hold of her like that…

Even as she looked uncertainly back and forth between the two humans on either side of her, she struggled to come to terms with understanding her own actions. Her mind instinctively searched for a motivation, a reason why her sub-conscious would react to Ariadne the way it did. Was it because she had been attacked? No… that had happened plenty of times before; archaeological excavation sites might not be war zones, but plunderers were never in short supply, and they tended to shoot first, dig later. Could Shepard's emotions have been so powerful that they imprinted themselves on her during the meld? Unlikely… while Liara could empathise with what both women were going through, she herself felt no love or hatred for Ariadne. They were talking now, but Liara was only half-registering what they were saying, too caught up in her thoughts. Her omni-tool would record what was said, anyway, if she missed something important.

_Why would you ruin something so beautiful? She trusted you!_

The words she herself had spoken mere minutes ago forced themselves into her reckoning. The question was the first following her outburst; the sentiment must have had something to do with it. The rage… it was almost as if Ariadne had betrayed her trust, her love, not that of a friend she was just getting to know. It seemed almost inexplicable that she should feel so strongly about Shepard's experiences. Granted, there was the meld, but… it had been a purely perfunctory exchange of information, with an… unpalatable look at the atrocities poor Shepard had had to endure. Although harrowing, it had certainly not been on the emotional level of a joining. She should be empathetic rather than…

_Goddess._

Liara was barely able to hide her surprise, a slight widening of her eyes the only clue as to the realisation which had just struck her. This… fascination with Shepard, her yearning for the Commander's approval, her desperation to be let in, to help the Spectre when she was at her most vulnerable… it could not just be a desire for friendship… could it? Her mind flickered to the other crew members of the Normandy. To Tali, Chakwas, Kaidan… even Ashley. Yes, she enjoyed their company, even considered them friends – or, more than mere acquaintances, at the very least. Yet… she did not think about them as much as she did Shepard, did not find her heart fluttering at every platonic touch, and she certainly would not lose control of herself on their behalf.

These feelings were entirely alien to her. Was this a blossoming attraction? She could not deny she found the Commander physically alluring, but then again, she knew many other individuals did, and so she had mentally filed that away as a part of normal social interaction. Her normal reaction to formulated hypotheses would be to apply the scientific method with rigour – test and demonstrate repeatability. But… how to design an experiment to assess if what she was feeling was mere friendship or something deeper? Maybe analysis of her heart rate when in proximity to Shepard compared with Tali or Chakwas. Or… perhaps respiratory rate? No… too many variables for both. Was there an "I like you" hormone? Her medical know-how did not extend that far… she would have to consult the Extran–

_Listen to yourself, Liara T'Soni! Even when you're talking to yourself, you're babbling!_

Imperceptibly, she shook her head, rousing herself from her reflections and focusing on Shepard's emerald green eyes. Perhaps, since so much had already changed in her life, it was time to approach things differently. Blasphemous as it may seem, maybe the scientific method could not be applied to all problems. It could be that, just this once, she would have to take the plunge, and just see where things went. Either way, for better or for worse, she would at least have an answer.

* * *

"_Ari?"_

Shepard could not remember a time when she had actually lost hold of her weapon in shock. Of all the people she could have encountered on such a mission… what the fuck was Ari doing here? The Commander was so stunned she barely had time to insulate herself against the emotional barrage which soon followed. Ari was the gaping wound which festered and refused to heal. Neglected, untreated, infected… it was just waiting to be stabbed, to wreak havoc on the feelings she kept so closely guarded from everyone around her.

Shepard had never been afforded the luxury of closure. Her enduring memory of Ari was that of devastation, betrayal and grief for a love so cruelly wrenched from her soul. She had never gotten to explain herself to Ari, to apologise, and then to demand the same from her former lover. All those unrequited reservations; they now came flooding back, careening into her like an out-of-control racer. She wanted to scream them at Ari now; and yet… suddenly, bizarrely, they seemed immaterial. Ari had attacked Liara, a member of her crew, a… friend, who she had more concern for than she cared to admit.

"J-Jess…"

Shepard felt her eyes stinging, even as she clenched her fists so tightly she swore her nails would rent through her gloves. She was struggling to keep the emotion out of her voice, to keep it steady, blasé, indifferent.

"What. The. Fuck. Are you doing here?"

Ari's eyes were at once pleading, terrified, melancholy. Her eyes glistened under the slight glare radiating from Liara's omni-tool, and a lone tear trickled down her cheek, as if attempting to soothe her trembling lips. When she spoke, her voice was choked, the words fractured and broken.

"Jess… I… Liara… Oh God, Jess… I –"

Shepard seemed to have lost whatever fine shred of control she had over herself. In an instant, she was pinning Ari back up against the wall, oblivious to the other woman's anguish and the gentle, alarmed fingers lightly touching her free wrist. Her own eyes welled with tears as she snarled, her face threateningly close to Ari's.

"Goddamn, _FUCK_, Ari! You do _not_ get to waltz into my life again and fuck around with it on a whim! Now. Answer my fucking question. What the fuck are you doing here? Why did you try to kill Liara?"

"Shepard –"

"Monday, stay out of this!"

The fingers recoiled suddenly, before tentatively returning, encircling her wrist. Shepard almost felt like she was being shielded against the buffeting winds. She felt the tenseness ebb slightly, although she made no move to retreat from Ari. She took a deep breath, glancing over at Liara's worried blue eyes before closing her own and nodding once. She fixed her smouldering eyes on Ari, her expectancy evident without more words needing to be said. The other woman took a trembling breath, setting her jaw as if resolving to finally tell the truth. Shepard could almost feel the relief washing over her at the sight.

"Jess… I… I owe you an explanation. The… the warehouse all those years ago… Liara… I –"

Suddenly, Ari's biotics flared, her eyes widening in horror as they did so. Shepard instinctively flung the other woman to the side, hurling herself at Liara as she did so. She barely had time to erect a barrier against an incoming projectile, before the ground shook with the force of energy radiating from Ari. Human and asari were flung into the air with ferocious force, Liara's skull saved from a bone-shattering impact only through her own reflexive counter-throw directed at the wall. As they fell to the ground, Shepard spun in mid-air, assuring that she would take the brunt of the collision when they hit the ground. Protecting Liara's head with one arm, she reached around her back with the other, unshipping her shotgun.

With a grunt, they landed on the ground, Shepard immediately hurling a throw in Ari's general direction, before roughly shoving Liara behind cover and rolling in the opposite direction. Her eyes widened in alarm as the set of crates Liara was crouched behind were viciously yanked away, before Ari sent them hurtling towards the stunned asari.

"Ari! What the fuck?" Shepard yelled, even as she and Liara simultaneously erected barriers against the flying crates. The Commander was surprised at the force with which the crates were striking their combined barrier; she was starting to sweat just from the effort of maintaining it under the relentless barrage. Ari was a talented biotic, for sure, but this level of power… Shepard never knew she had it in her. Glancing across at Liara, she jerked her head backwards. The asari's thumb flicker was the only indication of her assent – like Shepard, she was too focused on maintaining her barrier to do much more. The signal was clear: _get behind me_.

Immediately after the next crate struck the barrier, Shepard let out a roar, sending her energy swarming outwards in Ari's direction. Liara wasted no time in diving behind Shepard. For her part, the Commander was already in motion, materialising beside her former lover in an instant. Ari spun, but Shepard was already ducking, sweeping her leg firmly into the back of Ari's knees as she dropped. The human's legs buckled, but for some inexplicable reason, instead of countering her attacker, she sent yet another throw in Liara's direction as she fell.

Shepard saw Liara countering with a projectile of her own out of the corner of her eye. _That's my girl_. Her mouth twisted into a snarl as she drove her elbow into Ari's midsection. The bark of pain which emanated from Ari gave her no satisfaction – indeed, although she would never admit it, she felt a twang of sorrow. Angrily pushing her feelings to one side, she threw herself onto Ari, straddling her hips and immobilising her legs with her thighs. In one fluid motion, she had her shotgun trained on Ari's face.

"Don't you fucking move a muscle, Ari."

Shepard blinked when she finally registered the look on Ari's face. Where only moments ago, Ari's face had been a sea of conflicting emotions, now it was completely blank. Her eyes seemed to belie her actions, however; Shepard could swear she could feel the guilt and sorrow in them. And now… there was… horror?

"Talk to me, Ari. What the fuck is going on?"

No answer. Ari's eyes seemed to plead with Shepard, but she made no sound. Suddenly, her upper lip twitched, then the tell-tale signs Shepard knew all too well of the start of a biotic channel started again. Shepard shoved the barrel of the shotgun into Ari's chin.

"Don't you fucking dare, Ari. Don't you fucking dare."

Ari's entire body started to shimmer. Shepard grit her teeth, closing her eyes as she tightened her finger on the trigger.


End file.
